Nightfall: Ascending Darkness
by xStormyx
Summary: Haunted by betrayal, Klavier makes a decision that changes everything. But, even as he chases down the answers to his questions, the prosecutor doesn't see that Ema's right behind him... protecting him against another conspiracy.
1. Of Quarrels and Snackoos

Welcome to Part I of the Nightfall Trilogy: Ascending Darkness.

I own nothing except future OCs, the original plot and poems.

Further Details:

T for violence, swearing and somewhat adult situations - nothing explicit.

Genre: Romance / Angst / Mystery/ Supernatural / Drama

This story was formerly known as Turnabout Serenade Indeed but I changed it after it became a trilogy in order to keep it more in line with the dark theme of Nightfall. This story starts off at Turnabout Serenade and begins to branch off into my own plot which is subtly entwined with the plot of AJ. I hope you like it and will let me know what you think.

Of course, you may have guessed that this is also a Klavier/Ema story. There will be some other couples but I think only one other pairing will be recognisable to most fans as the rest will usually be my OCs (namely, the other Gavinners). Please don't let that put you off as I have no intention of writing Mary Sues. Eventually I intend to come back and revise this but for now, try to enjoy and _**please**_... leave me a review!

I hope you can enjoy the ride.

* * *

Ema was releasing all her pent up frustration on her poor underlings because chomping on Snackoos wasn't doing the trick. She was snapping orders at everyone, trying to get security perfect for a concert she didn't want to be at. For one, it was all too noisy with all the roof-raising rock music and the screaming girls. For another…

"Ah, Fräulein!"

She groaned inwardly as she turned to face the baby blue-eyed and ridiculously-haired nuisance. He flashed a smile at her and she glared in response as he sauntered up to her, a thumb hitched in his pants.

"Here you are."

"Scientifically speaking, yes I am." Ema scowled. "Psychologically speaking, I'm somewhere else."

"Achtung! You are in a fouler mood than usual. Might I enquire as to the occasion?"

Ema simply popped a Snackoo in her mouth and glowered at him. Klavier, however, chuckled in amusement and her munching speed increased as she fought to control the urge to Snackoo him. Glimmerous fop or not, he was still her boss. Sometimes though, the desire to give him a good Snackoo thrashing was too strong and the fact that she couldn't do it only served to infuriate her further. She tried to look on the bright side – if she had been allowed to attack him, she would probably never eat another Snackoo again. However, the thought of the ground around his humongous feet littered with her precious snacks did little to alleviate her temper.

"Fräulein?" Her eyes narrowed at the amusement glittering in his eyes.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"I would like to see a smile on your face, _mein liebe_."

"Can't do it," Ema said shortly, frowning instead. Then a devilish thought occurred to her and the corner of her mouth twitched. "In compensation, I can call you a cab at the end of your concert."

Klavier's smile vanished instantly as a small frown creased his forehead at the memory of his morning. Ema had caught him trying to sneak out of a cab when she arrived at the stadium. He had flushed slightly when he'd seen her smirking at him and when she casually asked after his 'hog' he'd defended himself vehemently, claiming he couldn't find his keys and insisting she not mention it to anyone else. Of course, that didn't mean she couldn't mention it to _him_.

"The security in the backstage hallway is inadequate," he said abruptly, all business-like all of a sudden. "There are too many fans finding their way in there."

"Fine," Ema snapped stuffing her Snackoos in her bag before marching off without looking back. Thankfully, it seemed like that last comment had the fop on his best behaviour… for now at least.

Ema shook her head to clear her head. Talking with him always made her feel like spiders had invaded her mind and spun a thousand webs; her every thought seemed to get caught up in another until nothing made sense. Obviously it was because he was so irritating that her blood pressure hit the sky and therefore made it impossible for her to concentrate on anything but the annoyance. Not only was he immature and glimmerous, he was also condescending and bossy. If she were a forensics expert, he wouldn't talk to her the way he did. She cursed her luck – not only did she fail the stupid exam but, as a result, was stuck with him for a boss. Ridiculous. Whoever heard of a prosecutor who was rock star? It was absurd. To top it off, he had that ridiculous hairdo and all those rings and that stupid chain he wore around his neck… He was more rock star than prosecutor and he had the cheek to claim the latter was his real passion.

Ema snorted. Prosecutor Gavin. What a silly title. _He should stick to singing and leave prosecuting to the likes of Mr Edgeworth_, Ema thought, practically swooning at the thought of the dashing prosecutor. Now there was a man she could get on board with! That chiselled face, those intense eyes and that silver hair… a small shiver ran down her spine. Of course, looks aside, Mr Edgeworth was a genius – he was smart, cool (in a way Klavier could never be) and he emanated power. When she had decided to join law enforcement, she had comforted herself with the thought that she would be seeing Mr Edgeworth practically every day. Until she came face to face with Gavin… or rather, face to chain. Ema scowled as she remembered her first day at work and her subsequent encounter with Klavier; of course, with her luck, she had ended up colliding with him as the stupid chain around his neck bumped painfully against her forehead and he had asked her if she was alright (while barely containing his amused smile). Ever since then, all she wanted to do was take that damn 'pendant' and strangle him with it. Someday, she would. She knew she would get arrested but as long as he wasn't around to be at the Prosecution's bench…

"Ohmigod, look he's coming this way!"

Ema snapped out of her fantasies to see that she had reached the backstage hallway and it was crowded with several teenage girls outside the Gavinners dressing room, all of whom were now staring over her shoulder.

"What are you all doing here?" Ema demanded stopping before them but they ignored her, growing more and more excited, pointing past her. She clutched her bag tight to stop herself from throwing something at them. Instead, she raised her voice, "I said–"

"Ladies, please do not ignore the good Fräulein here. It is detrimental to her health." His smooth voice cut across hers and the girls went wild as he stopped by her side playing with a lock of his hair. "The show begins in a half hour. You do not want all the best spots to be taken, ja?"

The girls all spluttered over one another in their hurry to agree and stumbled out of the hallway. Klavier watched them with a smirk on his face before he turned to Ema who had taken out her bag of favourite snacks and was chomping on them fiercely once more. He reached out for one but she snatched it away staring at him, shocked.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I wish to try one, Fräulein," Klavier said casually, reaching out again and this time Ema smacked his hand away, fire blazing in her eyes.

"Get your own!"

Klavier chuckled. "Come, Fräulein Skye. Do not be so ungracious."

"Ungrac– " Ema put her hands on her hips and glared into his face. "I am providing security for this awful concert– "

"For which you are getting paid," he interrupted.

"Oh heavens!" she exclaimed in mock shock, slapping a hand to her face. "You mean that generous offer you made earlier? 10% extra to my wage this month? I'm practically drooling." She looked away moodily, pouting.

"Fräulein, I had no idea you were so money-orientated," Klavier said leaning forward.

Ema jumped back while flushing and spluttering. "What do you – that's not what I – it's because you said I should be graci – OH!"

_Ka-tonk!_

Ema stared in something akin to horror as Klavier plucked out the Snackoo now lodged in his lapel and held it up for his inspection before turning his, now serious, gaze on her.

"Fräulein Detective…" he said in a calm voice. "I do believe…"

"Er… Hmph." Ema tried to maintain some dignity in her horror. She had just Snackoo'ed her boss! Why? Why did she… _Wait, wait, why was that Snackoo heading for his mouth!_

"… You gave me a Snack-ooooof!"

Ema had snatched at the snack in his hand and as a result thrown him off balance; he was pushed backwards against a wall and she was clinging onto his arms in a bid to stop herself from falling. She cursed at the floor. The little bite of heaven she had been trying to retrieve had fallen to the ground. She raised her gaze to pierce him with her killer look. He was a fop – no, he was a glimmerous fop. Now was a good time to grab that chain and choke the life out of him. He was a…

At that moment, her eyes met his and she lost her train of thought. It was as though her every sense was heightened. His hands were on her arms steadying her, strong but gentle and even through the fabric she could feel the heat. His breath was warm against her face, disturbing her fringe, causing her hair to tickle her forehead. Up close, she could see that his skin was really as flawless and golden as it appeared from afar and the shadows on his cheek bones enhanced his already chiselled features and his eyes… she felt like she was sinking into the ocean, the pressure pushing her down, taking away any hope of her resurfacing again…

"If you wished for an intimate interlude, this Snackoo farce was quite unnecessary, Fräulein. All you had to do was ask," Klavier murmured sweeping her face with his eyes.

And just like that, the madness ended.

Her eyes widened in shock as she pulled herself free and stepped away from him, speechless. She felt the heat rise to her face and her temper with it.

"You arrogant fop," she snapped. "You talk to much."

He straightened up, chuckling while dusting himself off and the sight of him brushing his clothes as though he'd gotten dirt on them infuriated Ema. She turned to march off, to get away from him... she needed to put as much distance between them as she could.

"_Ein_ moment, Fräulein."

She stopped but didn't turn around. She didn't think she could face him again. Just hearing him approach her was making her heart race. _What was wrong with her?_

"I wish to a– "

What he wished, Ema never got to find out; another voice interrupted him.

"Mr Gavin," the voice was soft and melodic and Ema glanced over her shoulder to see Lamiroir stepping out into the hallway tentatively. "Is everything alright? I heard raised voices."

"Everything is in order, Lamiroir," he replied, inclining his head. "There were some fans."

"I see." Ema was watching Lamiroir now and she was annoyed to see that the woman was staring at Klavier intensely. Ema was even more annoyed at the fact that this annoyed her. "Well Mr Gavin, I wish you luck with your performance."

"I never accept luck from anyone as I have no need of it but from the Siren of the Ballad, I shall graciously accept. I look forward to our performance tonight."

Klavier flashed a smile at the elder woman and, taking her hand, lifted it to his lips. Ema scowled at his blatant flattery._Player_, Ema thought. Lamiroir nodded and, without once acknowledging Ema, retreated to her dressing room and closed the door. Klavier turned his gaze on Ema who rolled her eyes and he chuckled.

"There is something you wish to say, ja?"

"Break a leg." Ema sniffed turning away. "And I don't mean that in a nice way," she added before stomping off.


	2. The Woes of Klavier Gavin

'More! More!' the pampered say,

Upon presented the night and day.

'More! More!' the spoilt cry,

Never ceasing till the day they die.

Klavier Gavin was not a happy man.

It was one embarrassment after another. First, he had to take cab to the concert. Then he had to break into his own guitar case like some common thief. Then, there was that – he closed his eyes in protest at the memory – stumble he'd taken when his guitar caught fire. In front of thousands of people no less. Not cool at all. _Then_ Daryan had messed up their performance with his _average_ playing. To top it off, someone was dead in accordance with the wishes of a lunatic who harboured a fondness for the dramatic. Klavier practically groaned as he recalled the unpleasant fact Trucy Wright had brought to light. Frankly, if he had known it would come back to haunt him, he would never have given her the signed lyrics sheet that was now making life so difficult for him.

He was lounging in his chair staring out the glass wall not really seeing the building lights in the dark. His guitar was resting in his lap, his fingers simply roving up and down the strings while his mind whirred, trying to make sense of the complexities of the day. A manager dead, no known enemies, with the possibility this was his first visit to the country and therefore leading to one conclusion- it was either Lamiroir or Machi Tobaye. However, given the layout of the crime scene and circumstances, logically, it could only have been Machi - it was impossible for Lamiroir to have had a hand in it.

Unease expanded in his stomach. Could a 14 year old really best a giant like LeTouse? Was it really possible for a child to shoot at a grown man - twice - and walk away? And what was the motive? Klavier didn't know. He had spent the last hour trying to find the pieces, putting them in different places but the picture never got any clearer. It was as though he was missing the edges of a jigsaw puzzle, unable to determine from where he should begin. The Borginian Embassy were taking their sweet time in getting back to them about the victim – time Klavier didn't have.

"Ach!" He set his guitar on his desk, frustratedly rubbing his eyes. He was so tired. His invitation of Lamiroir and Machi had gone all wrong; they were all caught up in a murder trial that didn't make any sense. How could a child kill his own manager?

"What you gettin' into a funk about this time, Gavin?" a voice drawled and he looked up to see Daryan sauntering into his office.

"Daryan." He turned his chair to face him. "What do you have for me?"

Daryan, however, didn't seem interested – he was examining his surroundings; from the papers on the ground to the charred guitar on the table before turning to Klavier with a smirk. "Man, for a perfectionist your office sure is a mess."

"Let's finish one case before getting onto another, ja?" Klavier said, irritated. "What did you find out about the victim?"

"It's as we thought. He never came to this country before," Daryan answered running his fingers over the remains of Klaviers guitar before focusing on him. "He hasn't had the chance to make any enemies here. Kid's the only one who coulda wasted him."

Klavier slumped in his chair looking as defeated as he felt. "But a 14 year old boy kill someone?" He shook his head disbelievingly.

"It wouldn't be the first time, man." Daryan shrugged leaning against the desk. "Who knows what drove him to it?"

"It was a .45 calibre pistol!" Klavier snapped. "That would cause a grown man severe damage!"

"Here he goes again," Daryan muttered under his breath before straightening up and piercing Klavier with a sharp stare. "Listen man, there were only two candidates – the diva and piano-boy. We've already established she couldn't fit into that vent so it has to be him! It doesn't matter how old he is. He ain't the first kid to commit murder and he ain't gonna be the last."

Klavier nodded, an unpleasant taste in his mouth because he couldn't deny the facts of the situation and he had no argument for Daryan's logic. So, he steeled himself and nodded once more, reminding himself that it was his duty to ensure criminals were brought to justice. His mouth set in a downward pout, he turned to look out of the window again, focusing on the lights of the buildings around him. Some were work lights but most were lights of apartment buildings and he wished one of those were his and he was turning in for the night. But sleep was out of the question with this case hanging over him.

"What you gonna do with this lump of crap, Gavin?" Daryan said and Klavier looked up to see him eyeing the burnt guitar again.

"I'm having someone inspect it," Klavier said walking up to the small table with the instrument on it and joining Daryan in his examination of it. "I want to know why it caught fire."

"You want me to take it over for ya?" Daryan offered but Klavier shook his head.

"I've already asked Fräulein Skye to do it."

"That mad scientist chick?" Klavier frowned but didn't say anything, choosing instead to nod. "Man, she's hot. Moody but hot."

"That's Fräulein Detective for you," Klavier said with a tiny smile as he remembered her trademark behaviour – munching Snackoos. He didn't know for sure why but every time he pictured her it was always with a bag of those strange snacks she never shared with anyone. Perhaps it was the way her lips moved when she munched on them, Klavier thought. Although, after the murder she had snacked very little and Klavier's smile disappeared as he remembered her ashen face. He knew she blamed herself to some extent for the events that had transpired as she had been on security. Of course, it was absurd for her to feel guilty – if anything, Klavier was glad she had only found the body once the murderer had escaped. When he heard she had run into the dressing room upon hearing the gunshots, namely the crime scene, he had felt horrified imagining all the ways she could have got hurt. It was an indication of her bravery and he admired her for it.

Klavier was growing increasingly fond of the detective. Even though she never smiled (unless smirking counted), was always snappy, never shared her Snackoos and always gave him a glare that told him she was not happy to see him, Klavier thought Ema Skye was the most endearing woman he had ever met. Perhaps it was the way her eyes sparkled at some new discovery or the adoringly childish tantrums she threw when something didn't go the way she wanted it to – he didn't know and, really, he didn't care. He just knew that teasing her was a favourite pastime of his and he liked the time he spent with her.

And then, there was that little… _moment_ they had shared that morning in the hallway; he had experienced her in a whole other way – her body was surprisingly soft. Not that he had ever thought about what it would be like but he supposed given her hard behaviour that… well, he hadn't expected her body to be _that_ soft. She had felt so petite in his arms and had she not pulled back when she did, Klavier was sure he would have hugged her. In that proximity, he had noticed many details about her – the scent of citron, the extraordinary length of her lashes and her bow shaped lips... Lips he'd never seen in their entirety until then because they were always in a scowl or a pout. She seemed so… _pure_. It was like a breath of fresh air.

"Hello, little lady," Daryan drawled and Klavier spun to find the protagonist of his thoughts standing in the doorway. Her usual scowl-slash-pout was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she looked tired and reserved.

She looked at Daryan blankly before turning to Klavier who was walking to her.

"Where's the guitar?" she asked bluntly and Klavier fought back a smile. He turned and gestured towards the table Daryan stood by. As both musicians watched, she walked over to it pulling out a bag in which she gingerly placed the instrument before wrapping it up briskly but gently. Before she could march off, however, Klavier stopped her as a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"One moment, Fräulein Detective." She turned to look at him. "I wish to hear your opinion on something."

"What?"

"Why do you think Machi, assuming he is the murderer," (Daryan snorted) "committed the crime as described by the lyrics?"

Klavier waited patiently as Ema looked to the side while fingering her hair in the manner she always did when she was in thought. After a moment she shrugged.

"I couldn't even begin to guess."

"It cannot be a mere coincidence, ja?" Klavier continued. "Everything happened exactly as it was written."

"Not exactly," Daryan contradicted and they both looked at him. "There's one thing missing."

"What's that?" Ema demanded and he turned to her with a smirk.

"Pleasure." Klavier frowned as Daryan winked at Ema, grinning at her devilishly. "In the second verse; 'pleasure, pleasure' or something wasn't it? Guess its 'cos the kid dunno about things like that, eh?"

"Daryan, I hardly think this is the time for such comments," Klavier snapped.

Daryan scowled at him. "You can be such a stick in the mud, Gavin." He waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever. I'm off. Catch you funks later."

Klavier watched as Daryan flashed a smile at Ema before sauntering off in the same manner he'd come in. She was looking at Daryan's retreating back with a scowl and he chuckled. "Do not mind him, Fräulein. He is a bit of a rogue."

"Hmph." She frowned. "He's fop too."

Klavier's mouth twitched. "Here I thought I was special Fräulein Detective. I am quite put out."

"Well, you're not." She shook her head and turned to follow Daryan but Klavier stopped her again. "What now?" she complained.

"Are you alright?" he was concerned at the eyebags that seemed to have developed under her eyes in an alarmingly short amount of time.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she snapped.

"You must not feel guilty, Fräulein." Klavier said gently and she looked away again. "It was not your fault. It was Machi who–"

"Was it though?" Ema interrupted and he looked at her in surprise. "How can a blind child randomly kill his manager who, by the way, is twice as big as him?"

"I do not know, Fräulein." Klavier sighed pausing for a moment. "For what it's worth, I have my doubts too."

"Then why are you prosecuting him?"

"Fräulein," Klavier said taken aback at the vehemence in her voice. "You, yourself, told me the circumstances. I have no–"

"Yeah and tomorrow I have to pretend I believe it and testify against him." Ema's eyes were ablaze now. "And I hate it. I know that he didn't do it!"

"How can you know something like that?" Klavier demanded, feeling defensive now.

"Because I've been in his position and I wasn't guilty!" Ema blurted out and Klavier's retort died on his lips as he stared at her, aghast. Ema, realising what she had just said, clamped a hand over her mouth as her eyes widened in horror.

"You–"

"I have to go," she said, hurriedly snatching up his guitar, and rushed out of his office before Klavier could get another word out. He stared at the empty doorway for several minutes in shock at what she had said. What had she meant? Ema had been a suspect in a murder trial? How could he not know something like this? And as the full implication of her outburst hit him, he felt the unease inside him turn into outright guilt and uncertainty.

Tomorrow was going to be tougher than he thought.


	3. Dishonesty Abounds

"…Very good Fräulein," Klavier said, smiling at Ema who was getting uncomfortable on the witness stand. "Perhaps you can tie it all together for us. Why was the body moved? And how does that lead us to the killer?"

Ema glowered at the implication behind his words but she kept quiet knowing full well that the courtroom was no place to start bickering with him. So instead, she took a deep breath and, with a sick feeling in her stomach, she began her testimony.

"I believe Machi stole the body because of some lyrics. He moved the body to match Lamiroir's song."

"Hold it!" Apollo shouted and Ema almost sighed in relief at the interruption. She _wanted_ him to find a contradiction in her testimony. "What reason could he have?"

Ema's heart sank and her temper rose at the stupidity of his question. "You want my opinion? No idea!" she snapped turning to glare at Klavier for including this stupid, mind-boggling detail in the trial only to find him staring back at her with a smile and… was that a warning in his eyes? Her insides boiling and, making a mental note to yank his pretty hair out, Ema turned her gaze back to Apollo.

"But clearly he had a reason to go through all that trouble. Some deep reason."

"Not only did he steal my keys, he torched my guitar! Unforgivable acts even if he had a reason…" Klavier said suddenly and Ema was amused (yes, amused) to find his face devoid of his usual smile and replaced with a look of desperation and horror. "...And worse if he had none!"

Ema sniggered to herself which (thankfully) went unnoticed. "The diva's complaints aside," she continued, "I can't imagine someone doing this on 'just a whim'."

_Hint hint_, she said with her eyes but the prosecutor was far too preoccupied looking distressed and indignant again to notice it.

"Fräulein Detective! I take offense at that description!"

The crowd, too, seemed to find this comment interesting as they all began to chatter among themselves until the Judge banged the crowd-silencing gravel.

"Indeed," he said once the crowd quietened, "it does seem too well rehearsed, shall we say."

"Yes," Ema agreed. "This crime was planned for sure. No one in this country had a motive to kill the victim."

"Hold it!" Apollo interrupted once more but this time Ema wasn't as hopeful for any type of useful contradiction. The Wright kid didn't do any justice to his mentor. "But… Mr LeTouse spoke English! He may have come to this country before!"

Ema smirked, pleased with her powers of prediction. She shot a smile his way saying, "I looked into that, I assure you."

"Oh."

"It was his first time in the country, it seems. Apparently he learned English on his own."

"You see?" Klavier interjected while Apollo's face fell. "No one here had a motive to kill him and certainly not in such an elaborate fashion."

"Hmm…" The Judge was looking pensive. "It does seem difficult to imagine."

Ema's insides were twisting uncomfortably at the route this cross examination had taken. Apollo was being useless and Klavier was being almost ruthless. In an uncharacteristic show of cheekiness, Ema interrupted to give Apollo more time to think of something.

"Unless our famous prosecutor did it as a publicity stunt."

Klavier was so taken aback by the sudden comment that he seemed to collapse against the desk, a look of intense disbelief on his face as he stammered, "Wh-What did you say?"

"Prosecutor Gavin!" the Judge exclaimed over the chatter of the audience as Ema watched on in amusement. The entertainment value was great! "You did this to promote your song!"

It was all Ema could do to stop herself from giggling outright at the shock that seemed to have overtaken the fop. _He's not so glimmerous now, is he?_ Behind him, in the audience, Ema could see Daryan grinning openly and he winked at her, almost as if in approval of her teasing. Ema considered sticking her tongue out at him but Klavier spoke up again and she had to preserve her energy to remain somewhat controlled in the courtroom.

"Of course not, and I am quite dismayed by the ludicrous nature of her claim." he retorted, clicking his fingers. "Why would I need promotion? Everyone already listens to my music!"

She barely managed to stifle the laughter bubbling in her. It appeared the good prosecutor didn't find the murder accusation itself ludicrous — rather, he was upset at the claim that his music needed promotion. Ema looked around the courtroom to see what reaction this had gleaned from the audience; the Judge was looking pensive again (or maybe wondering if he should point out he had never listened to the Gavinners); Trucy seemed to be telling Apollo the Gavinners were in textbooks while Apollo joined the Judge in his worry and the rest of the audience seemed to be chattering again.

"I was just kidding!" Ema said shooting the prosecutor an _I-got-you-good_ smile. "Don't get all worked up, glimmer-boy."

She couldn't be sure but she thought she saw something like annoyance flash in his eyes. Paying no heed to it, she continued with her testimony (which was always interrupted by the inexperienced defense). Throughout it, Klavier seemed to avoid talking to her directly and she wondered if he were truly annoyed with her jokes. _Well_, she thought with a sniff, _now he knows what its like to be on the receiving end_. Ema's suspicions about the fop (in her mind it was now almost a swear) were confirmed when he humiliated her publicly by displaying her incompetence at doing her job; she watched furiously as he laughingly apologised for not telling her about Machi's blindness simply because it was too much of a hassle to bother her! Well she'd show him…

"I'm not leaving!" she snapped glaring at the prosecutor wishing she could murder with a glance. She was through pretending she believed Machi was the killer. In fact, she was through helping the prosecution with its ridiculous case — screw the consequences. She didn't care if she lost her job. "I can't leave like this! I'll come up with some clue to solving this case if it kills me!"

"But your testimony has already given us enough to convict the defendant…" said the Judge, blinking at her sudden outburst while Apollo looked like he was going to faint from the stress of trying to prevent a guilty verdict. Ema, however, was not really paying attention to either and, after a short while of scanning through the mental inventory of the clues she had found, a lightbulb seemed to flicker in her mind.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, "Ah ha!"

Everyone stared at her waiting for a response but she just glowed triumphantly, pleased with herself. It was Apollo who asked the question on everyone's mind:

"Aha what?"

"This blood stain…" she said slowly for a more dramatic effect. "The criminal tried to wipe it off, right?"

Klavier was now staring at her, both interested and somewhat suspicious of this new turn in her testimony. She would have liked him to lose his composure just one more time for fun but she knew him too well — he wouldn't show his alarm that easily. He had a 'cool' image to maintain… although, what was so cool about teen-angst rockers befuddled her. She shook her head in a bid to focus on the task at hand; so she talked Apollo through the process and once Daryan was assigned to delve into the mystery of the code she had uncovered (Apollo had only done the dirty work), she walked away from the witness stand with dignity. Assuming her place in the audience once more, she watched the cross examination of Lamiroir with a sort of fascinated interest. Looking at the singer, it was difficult to believe she was blind; she didn't possess the far-away look the blind usually did and Ema was comforted by the thought that even the drill-haired idiot had not realised Lamiroir was could not see until he received the report telling him so.

Suddenly, a commotion broke her out of her reverie. Lamiroir was still on the witness stand but now Daryan had reappeared with what Ema supposed was the result of his inquiry into the number. But… why did he look so out of sorts? She turned to the young officer sat next to her.

"What's happened?" she demanded. "Whose Interpol number was it?"

"It's LeTouse's," the young man replied but the shock on his face was a little too extreme for the revelation. "And…" he added, gulping and Ema glared at him impatiently. "Lamiroir has just named Detective Crescend as the man whose voice she heard arguing with LeTouse."

"What?" she yelped rounding on the scene before her. Klavier had lost all composure and was now clutching his ears as if what he heard was burning him. "You mean…?"

"Yeah," the officer said grimly his eyes fixed on the scene. "She's fingering him as the criminal."

Lamiroir was looking nervous but certain and Daryan was visibly reeling from the outburst. Apollo was glaring at Daryan as if working through things in his mind and the Judge simply looked gobsmacked and confused. Ema herself was astonished. Daryan Crescend? The killer? Could it be?

Then her thoughts took a darker turn as she remembered her own experience as a teenager. Authority figures were not always honest and power was often abused. Ema Skye knew that better than anyone. Hadn't she seen her share of it with Gant and his twisted games? And she recalled the von Karma scandal — Miles Edgeworth was also a victim to someone who'd pushed the limits of sanity, driven by a lust for perfection which, to Ema, was another form of power. She had seen enough in her early years to realise that the people one was meant to trust could not, in fact, always be trusted. It was a sad fact but it was a fact nonetheless. The tableau before her was a perfect example.

For some reason, however, Ema's concern was shifting to the prosecutor. He had regained some composure but the confusion and trepidation in his eyes was visible even from where she was sat. However, nobody else seemed to notice this; the court was rife with loud chatter, gasps and accusatory glares and the banging of the Judge's gravel which went unnoticed by the crowds. Among the chaos, Ema's eyes remained fixed on the rock-star for whom she felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy… and dread.

* * *

Ema heard raised voices as she approached Klavier's office and she stopped. It sounded as though he was arguing with someone and she edged a little closer to the door which was not quite shut in order to determine who the other person was.

"I ain't dirty." _If the voice isn't enough to figure it out, the language sure does the trick_, Ema thought. It was Daryan. "What do you think I am, a chowderhead?"

"Daryan," Klavier sounded drained — an uncharacteristic emotion for the man. "I know you didn't do it." Ema frowned at the certainty in his voice. It was as though he had forgotten the days events. "But that cocoon is a — "

"Yeah, I know it's a major cash-cow," Daryan interrupted and he sounded annoyed. "It might be a sufficient motive for regular people but I ain't regular. I'm a detective and a _star_," he said with emphasis. "I don't need that moolah. I got enough money of my own."

"I know!" Klavier snapped. "It is not me you have to convince. It is others who will question you."

"What do you mean question me?" Daryan snapped and he was definitely in a bad mood now. "You ain't gonna put me on the witness stand, man."

"I will not as long as it is within my power," Klavier said overriding Daryan who seemed ready to interrupt once more. "But I cannot account for the Judge."

"Ha!" Daryan scoffed. "Judge chrome dome doesn't have enough of a brain to do something like that. You can influence him no problem."

"Perhaps not but Herr Forehead will most likely try to indict you in the murder to get Machi Tobaye off the hook."

"That dingleberry ain't any better," Daryan sneered. "He's just picked up a few tricks from that Wright dork and he can't even do them right."

Ema had heard enough. She straightened up and, with a frown on her face, stalked right into the room to find Klavier sat in his chair while Daryan was leaning on the desk with his hands, presumably to get in the fop's face. Both men turned to look at her.

"Mr Wright is not a dork." Ema sniffed glaring at Daryan who smirked at her.

"Eavesdrop much, babe?"

"If you don't want to be overhead close the door," Ema snapped before turning on Klavier ready to inform him of the firecrackers she had found but was interrupted.

"You were listening in on our conversation, Fräulein?" He frowned and she glared at him.

"No," she said without blushing although she knew it was a blatant lie. "Anyway, I came to tell you about some firec—"

"Fräulein, please do not listen at my door again," Klavier interrupted again. "It is unbecoming of a lady."

Ema's eyes narrowed at him as the blood rushed to her cheeks. She opened her mouth to retort but decided not to at the last minute as she figured she would probably just embarrass herself further. Her fingers tightened around the plastic bag containing the fragments of the firecrackers she had found at the scene and a devilish thought occurred to her.

"Now, why have you come?" he asked and Ema's blood boiled at the rude manner in which he phrased that question. Her mind made up, Ema answered with a straight face while stuffing the evidence deeper into her bag.

"No new evidence was found at the crime scene."

Ema could have sworn she saw Daryan visibly relax and her suspicions (which had begun building the moment she found the pieces) heightened.

"Ya see?" Daryan said rounding on Klavier who also looked relieved. "You were creatin' a big stink over nothing — as always."

"Daryan," Klavier said exasperatedly. Ema turned to march away, eager to get away from the pair but the fop said her name and she stopped before turning slowly to face him again.

"What?" she said waspishly.

"Careful there, babe," Daryan drawled. "I wouldn't talk to the head honcho like that if I were you."

"You're not me!" she snapped. "Now what do you want, Gavin?"

"Raowr," Daryan sounded and Ema had her bag of Snackoos out so quick, neither man saw where it had come from. Within seconds she had thrown a handful of them in Daryan's face. "Ow!" he complained rubbing his forehead. "What the hell was that for?"

"Being you," Ema said, the calm in her voice belying the sorrow she felt at her precious snacks littering the floor.

"Fräulein Skye," Klavier said sharply. "I think it unnecessary for you to assault everyone with those things."

"Hmph," was all Ema said before popping one into her mouth and looking away.

"Daryan, I will speak to you later. Remember, lie…"

"…low." Daryan finished, his voice laced with contempt. "Yeah. _You_ remember what _I_ said. Nail him. Ya dig?"

"Ja." Klavier nodded.

Daryan winked at her before gliding out of the room with all the prowess of a hunter — the type that lived underwater. Ema almost shuddered at the predator-like aura Crescend seemed to carry around with him. Even his smile, though perfect in every way, was feral and every time he looked at her, it was as if he were considering her potential as a prey. Up until recently she had always been comfortable enough in his company (which hadn't been often) however, after Lamiroir's accusation Ema began to see another, harsher, side to him. She had heard him talk about Klavier and the bond between the two friends was evident even when Daryan was being his usual sarcastic self and it was hard for her to believe he could be a murderer. Yet, the new evidence she had found was enough to make her suspicious and, coupled with the reaction she had seen from Daryan, she was almost certain he was guilty. The thought made her both angry (at Daryan for allowed Machi to take the fall) and sad (because it would affect Klavier tremendously). She didn't know very much about the relationship between the two but she guessed that Kristoph Gavin's arrest had had enough of an impact on the younger Gavin if it had bought him half way across the world to see the attorney that had put him away. She focused on the latter Gavin and found him leaning his head back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He looked tired and disturbed. Her anger abated and pity took hold once more.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly and Klavier straightened up to look at her.

"Whatever for, Fräulein?" he asked, surprised.

"It must be hard," she started, looking away, finding it hard to continue looking at him, "about Daryan."

She didn't see his eyes but she heard it in his voice — it was dark when he spoke; "There is no need to be sorry," he said and she looked at him surprise. He was frowning and there was a storm in his eyes. "Daryan is not guilty."

"But…" she began, frowning. "Lamiroir said that — "

"She is mistaken," Klavier interrupted abruptly. "The only crime Daryan is guilty of is offending people with his hair." Ema opened her mouth deciding that she would tell him about the fragments she had found but he cut across her. "Fräulein, I will not hear anymore."

"So you think it's more likely a child murdered LeTouse than a grown man?" Ema demanded with mounting disbelief and anger.

"Yes," Klavier said bluntly and Ema's eyes narrowed. She knew that look in his eyes — he would not listen to a thing she had to say because he was blinded by his personal attachment to Daryan. She knew that she couldn't give him the piece of evidence that she had found now. Who knew what he would do with it? He was irrational and a paranoia born of past experiences made her wonder if he wouldn't manipulate it or even make the evidence disappear. She remembered her own trial in which her sister had turned to the illegal to protect her. She understood what Klavier was going through but it didn't give him the right to wrongfully prosecute a child in such a brutal murder.

"Authority figures cannot always be trusted, Gavin," Ema said firmly. "I know. When I was on trial, the — "

"Fräulein Skye," Klavier cut across her sharply, standing up, and his blue eyes were flashing now. "I do not know what you went through nor do I wish to hear it. I have known Daryan since we were children. I know him. He is not a murderer." Ema's mouth dropped a little and something akin to hurt rushed through her. "I asked you to remain behind as I wished to know if there was anything else I should know about the investigation."

She stared at him for a moment before responding. "No," Ema said coldly.

"Very well. You may leave." He said dismissing her and turning away to stare out of the window. Ema marched out of his office.

No… Klavier Gavin was not rational enough to be trusted with such evidence. However, she was also feeling a little guilty remembering the relief that Klavier had clearly felt at her lie. What would happen when the evidence found its way into court tomorrow and his relief was washed away never to be brought back? Ema was torn, unable to make a decision.

_To tell him or not to tell him?_

She needed advice and there was only one man who could give her that. With a sigh, Ema Skye turned right and made her way through the night towards the Wright Anything Agency.**  
**


	4. Darkest Before The Dawn

A/N: In Turnabout Serenade, Phoenix gives Apollo the firecracker fragments that turn the whole case around and he states that Ema gave them to him (along with a bag of Snackoos). I always wondered why she gave him those fragments rather than Klavier or directly to Apollo herself.

And I couldn't help but wonder what the conversation with Nicky boy consisted of.

Not to mention, Ema seems to do less 'glimmerous fop'-ing after Case 3...

* * *

Almost an hour later Ema stood at the front door to the Wright Anything Agency, feeling sad for the millionth time at the title, and knocked. It should have only taken a half hour to get here but she was dangerously low on Snackoos and therefore had to stop along the way to re-stock her bag.

Re-stock was an understatement really, Ema thought as her fingers curled around the strap of her bag. It was bursting at the seams with several packets of her favourite snacks. She could live off them forever if she had to. Just as her hand freed itself to dive into the open zip to retrieve a pack, the door opened and Phoenix Wright stood at the threshold.

Ema had seen him several times since her return but every time was a shock to her system. She always expected him to be suited and booted and ready to defend. There was no space left in her mind to accommodate this new Phoenix with his hobo attire. There was a shadowed weariness in his blue eyes, like the depths of the seas that held all the secrets of the dark places nobody dared enter. His shoulders were no longer upright and strong but slouched as if burdened by the knowledge he had acquired by venturing there. His hands were always out of sight as if he was ashamed that he could no longer use them to find the truth behind the lies. Ema had seen Phoenix in court. She knew what he had lost. It wasn't just a badge — it was an identity.

"Ema," he said quietly with a smile. "Come on in."

He stood aside, allowing her to pass, and closed the door behind her. Ema's heart tightened for the thousandth time as she saw the mess he had allowed to accumulate in his office. She knew he loved his daughter (THAT was something she could never get used to) and that it was that affection that allowed Trucy to get away with all the clutter. Yet, there was a part of Ema that wondered if there was another reason for why the room no longer resembled the legal office it once used to be.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked genially and Ema smiled at him sheepishly. There was something about him that made her feel 16 all over again. She supposed some memories were too deeply ingrained to ever be swayed by something as insignificant as ageing. However, there had been a hint of uneasiness as if Phoenix was uncomfortable around Ema, when she had met him for the first time after returning to L.A. She supposed he expected her to believe the rumours about him. It was nonsense of course, there was not a chance in hell anyone who had ever been defended with and by him would think he had really forged evidence. This was the man who exposed von Karma, who fought to declare his own client guilty after finding out he had hired an assassin.

Yes, Ema had read all about his cases after her departure to Europe and if there had been any room for doubt about his credibility before or during her case, the ones after it destroyed it completely.

"Ema," his voice cut into her thoughts and she focused on the man before her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She shook her head, clearing it of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Mr Wright." She smiled. "It's been a long day."

"I heard," he said gesturing for her to sit down. "Would you like something to drink? It's my duty to warn you that all l I have to offer is some very cheap tea."

"No, I'm alright," Ema declined politely and he nodded understandingly while sitting down opposite her.

"Trucy's been bouncing with excitement and theories ever since yesterday's trial. Of course I only see her at night, I'm so busy these days what with arranging the test run for the Jurist System…" he turned to look at the door that, she assumed, led into his daughter's room. "It's Apollo who bears the brunt of her enthusiasm most days."

"She's a cheerful girl." Ema grinned as she remembered the few encounters she'd had with his daughter.

"Reminds me of someone else I used to know," he said looking at her sideways. "Not so much anymore."

Ema sighed. "You know how it is Mr Wright. You grow up and become a cynic."

"I suppose," he said. "And as you're so grown up now, how about you stop calling me Mr Wright and switch to Phoenix?"

Ema grinned. "I'll try… but old habits die hard."

"And some don't die at all," he said his eyes glittering as they swept over her lab coat. "You've changed so much and yet remained the same."

"An incredible feat, I know," Ema said smugly and he chuckled, his hand sweeping over his beanie.

Her attention was drawn to the large surprised campaign button she had worn as an adolescent now stuck atop his hat. The expression on it was a fair representation of the man — he was full of the unexpected and truly exceptional, even now. She had gifted it to him just as she had boarded the aeroplane bound for Europe. Ema had never told him her reasons for giving it to him and, so, was touched that he not only kept it but also wore it in full view despite not knowing the significance behind it.

"So, Ema," he said taking a deep breath and slapping his legs with his hands. "The late hour tells me this wasn't a social call."

"No it wasn't," Ema said sheepishly. "I need to talk to you about something." He simply nodded, leaning forward, ready to listen. Ema took a deep breath and began. She told him everything: the location she had discovered the evidence, the gunpowder discovered on the fragments, Daryan's reaction and her suspicions about him.

The words stumbled over each other in their rush to escape that nasty place inside her where she'd stored them. With each syllable she could breathe more freely again taking comfort in her confidant's steady gaze. When she pulled out the evidence and handed it to him, her burden was entirely lifted because she knew that everything was in safe hands. There was no one she trusted more than this man; Ema could never place such evidence into the hands of another — perhaps not even her sister. As she watched him turn over the bag of what remained of the firecrackers, the detective knew he would do what was right — he would ensure justice.

Ironically enough…

"Apollo needs to have this," Phoenix said and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. He looked at her with a serious expression. "My gut tells me this is a very important piece of evidence, maybe the key to this whole trial. It's best you don't hand this to Klavier. There's no telling what he would do with this."

"Klavier Gavin isn't misguided," Ema said, surprised at how defensive she suddenly felt though she didn't know why — hadn't she been thinking the same thing? Hadn't it been this exact doubt that had led her to this man's doorstep? So why now, when he was confirming her instincts, was she defending Klavier?

"Neither was your sister, Ema," Phoenix said piercing her with his gaze and there was no faraway look in his eyes now, no doubt and no smirk on his face. She opened her mouth to reply but he shook his head. "No, Ema, _listen_. You're right, your boss isn't misguided. He's emotionally biased and sometimes that's even more dangerous. This clue, in his hands, could spell disaster not only for a potential innocent but for the prosecutor himself."

"I don't understand," Ema said stiffly.

"Your sister committed many crimes to cover one crime… _your_ crime. Klavier is a good man but he is still only human. In this case, he must not be given the chance to manipulate anything because now this trial involves a fellow band member and a best friend!" Phoenix was agitated now, on the edge of his seat clutching the bag tightly in his fist. Ema was beginning to realise the seriousness of the evidence now. His eyes were so intently fixed upon her that she was, for the first time in her life, feeling uncomfortable around him.

"Do you think…" Ema started then swallowed, almost fearful of what she was about to say. "Do you really think he would hide this evidence?"

Phoenix was quiet for a moment. "He's a good man," he said slowly. "But he has an unusual life, Ema."

"What do you mean?" Ema asked, frowning in confusion.

"Consider his personal life," Phoenix said rising from his seat and moving to stand by the window, staring out into the darkness. "He lost his parents as a child. The only family he has left is his brother who was found guilty of murder only recently. It should be easier for you to understand, the enormity of this, than most people."

With each word, a heaviness pressed on Ema's heart as she struggled to put herself in his position. Sure, she had experienced some of that horror with Lana but Phoenix had been there to eventually find the truth and shed light on the darkness of the case. Sadly, there was no such release for Klavier — where Lana had been innocent, Kristoph was not and that was one thing she could not imagine. Throughout Lana's case, Ema had whole-heartedly believed her to be innocent despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, despite Lana's confession, and so she didn't know what it would feel like to know that the only family she had left was, in fact, a murderer.

"There's nobody to tell Klavier that his brother is innocent," Phoenix said quietly. "And that's because the horrifying truth is that Kristoph _did_ murder someone — and Klavier doesn't know why."

Ema thought back to the years she had had to put up with Lana's coldness. She had simply changed and Ema had never known why or what had changed her. She remembered the nights she would stay awake trying to work out what it was that had caused the shift and wondering if she was to blame for it or if Lana simply didn't love her anymore. Those nights had been the worst and although she had gotten her answers, eventually realising that she was not at fault, the scars of those years still remained. With a pang of the heart, Ema realised it was probably a hundred times worse for Klavier. She couldn't have imagined it could get much worse than what she'd had to deal with but the prospect of what Klavier was going through…

"He has a very unsteady life," Phoenix continued. "He's always in the public eye either as a prosecutor or an artist. He lives his unstable life with a smile on his face. He's a man who takes the law very seriously and so his brother's crime — who was also an attorney and, by extension, also a brother in arms — is an even greater betrayal. He fights and fights every single day against crime. He makes difficult decisions on a daily basis." Phoenix turned around and Ema looked at him. "He's an exceptional man but he's just that… a man."

Ema lowered her eyes again and stared at her hands without really seeing them. Instead, all she saw was Klavier's bright smile underlining his amused eyes. She had never really thought about it deeply — in her mind, Klavier had always been a strong, professional (and sometimes irritating) figure and it was just hitting her now that, because he did his job so well, she never really thought of him as someone with emotions and problems. She thought she had come to see her friend because she doubted Klavier's inability to make a rational judgement but, upon deeper reflection, she realised that had she actually been thinking of his feelings, she would not be so shocked by Phoenix's insight into the matter. If she had really considered Klavier's feelings, perhaps she would have understood his lashing out at her rather than lie to him and run to Phoenix in a fit of rebellion.

"How many smiles do you think he can fake before he cracks?"

"I never really thought of him like that," she answered quietly. She lowered her head in shame. "I really only came here because I was angry…" she trailed off not wanting to sound childish by admitting she had thrown a tantrum at Klavier's behaviour. If Phoenix noticed anything, he didn't show it.

"You need to give this to Apollo," Phoenix said quietly, approaching where she sat. He held it out to her. "Give it to him…"

But Ema was shaking her head refusing to look at the bag.

"No, Mr Wright," she said turning away. "I… I can't."

"Ema…"

"You give it to him," Ema said heavily.

She saw Phoenix nod out of the corner of her eye and move to put it away. She shut her eyes while trying to rub away the throbbing that had begun at her temples. She didn't understand why she felt like she was in the wrong but there was something inside her that kept picturing Klavier's face when this new evidence was presented and he was faced with the inevitable truth — that Daryan was guilty. Phoenix seemed to agree — he hadn't put it in so many words but that he hadn't contradicted her theory was a bad sign.

The sadness she felt inside was starting to erode away at some of the peace she had gained upon arriving here. It was this guilt and sadness that just made her want to snatch the evidence off Phoenix and run to Klavier with it. Of course she could never do anything like that and her present situation was enough of a reminder why. She felt the overwhelming desire to do something she _knew_ was wrong simply to spare Klavier the pain he would feel… What would he do to protect his best friend from going to prison? What would he do to keep from losing one more person in his life?

"You care about him."

Ema's eyes flew open as Phoenix's voice interrupted her thoughts. He was standing beside her, his face turned downwards, a small smile on his face. She opened her mouth to protest but he held up a hand.

"He's going to need a true friend," he said quietly the smile fading from his face as suddenly as it had reappeared. "There's a dark time coming for Klavier and he won't be able to pull through it alone."

"I don't think I'm the one for that job," Ema mumbled. "He's a rock star I'm sure he—"

"—will be looking for a real friend rather than people who pretend to be," Phoenix finished kindly and Ema silenced. He crouched down next to her. "He's going to need you. You in particular."

"Why me?" Ema asked quietly although she thought she already knew the answer.

"Because of what you went through with Lana." Phoenix said simply staring straight into her eyes now. "Be his friend, Ema."

She hesitated before nodding slowly. "I'll try. But after this, he might not want to talk to me."

"He will," Phoenix said rising and walking to one of the doors and opening it slightly. He peered inside for a moment and, seemingly satisfied, closed it again. "Just checking Trucy's still asleep. She has a rather amusing habit of listening at doors. I don't want Apollo to be misguided by anything she overheard."

"Mr Wright…"

"Phoenix, Ema. Or try Nick." She didn't know if she was imagining it but there seemed to be a wistfulness behind that request.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I think you just did and the answer is yes." Phoenix's eyes were glinting with amusement now.

"Can I ask another then?" Ema said half-jokingly.

"You just did it ag—"

"Mr Wright!" She hmph-ed but he was laughing now and he nodded his approval to her. "Why are you so concerned about Klavier when he…" her voice faded as she swallowed, afraid to say the words.

"When he was the one who took my badge away, you mean?" Phoenix guessed and she nodded. "Because he isn't the one who took it away — someone else did. Klavier only did what he thought was right. I would have done the same."

Ema stared at Phoenix unable to believe how forgiving the man was, how big his heart was. Upon finding out Klavier's involvement in the trial, Ema had sworn to loathe the prosecutor for all eternity but the real victim was defending Klavier and telling her to be there for him. If she wasn't mistaken, Phoenix was _saving_ him.

"Don't blame him, Ema." Phoenix said quietly, looking into her face. "He carries so much weight already. He's trapped in a hell we can't see. What use would it be to punish a man who's committed no crime?"

Ema sighed and nodded. Phoenix was right of course — as always. There was nothing to blame Klavier for and there was nothing to be gained by doing so. The stress of the evening made her snap and she yanked out a packet of Snackoos from her bag and began to munch on them ferociously trying to distract herself from her thoughts by focusing all her energy into reducing the snacks to less than crumbs inside her mouth.

"Ema," Phoenix said eyeing the packet in her hand. "What are those? I saw you munching on them a few times and I confess I'm very curious."

"Oh!" Ema said glancing from Phoenix to her snacks and back again before extending her packet forward. "Here, try some. I was in late for work one day just after moving back and I grabbed a packet of these from one of those stands. I've been addicted ever since."

She watched Phoenix take one out of her bag and pop it into his mouth. She didn't realise how tense she was until he nodded approvingly and she relaxed, relieved he shared her taste.

"They're pretty good," Phoenix said. "Not too pleasant to look at but nevertheless…"

"What do you mean?" Ema said quickly.

"Well…" his mouth twitched. "Don't they remind you of…?"

"Don't say it!" Ema squealed, her eyes widening in horror. "I can't believe you almost desecrated them like that!"

"Ah…" he smirked. "So they _do_ remind you of—"

"Lana!" she interrupted hastily. "She said to tell you hi!"

"When I tell you that Snackoos remind me of—"

"Mr Wright!" Ema protested almost desperately, glaring at him and he roared with laughter.

"I'm so glad you're back, Ema," He said.

Ema sniffed almost getting teary at the kindness of his remark. Refusing to cry, however, she simply pulled out an unopened packet of Snackoos and thrust them in his hands. He took them with a nod of the head to indicate he understood the gesture. Thankfully, however, he didn't say anything else that would have caused the detective to turn on the waterworks, switching instead to a lighter topic.

"How is Lana nowadays?"

"She's okay." Ema nodded. "She's working as a legal advisor now. It's a big step down from Chief Prosecutor but she's happy with it. And she's seeing somebody too."

"Oh?" Phoenix said interestedly but Ema saw an expression on his face and she knew he was probably thinking something cheeky or sarcastic… or both.

"She says it's not serious. But, scientifically speaking," Ema's back straightened and her voice took on a professional quality, "nine months is more than enough time to test the waters."

"Of course," Phoenix said with laughter in his voice. "And we both know science is never wrong!"

Ema grinned. "Never!"

"I'm glad to hear things are going well for Lana. She deserves it."

"Yes," Ema said, her voice quietened by the rush of memories. "She does."

They both sat in a comfortable silence that could only exist between two friends who had been through rough times, helped one another and trusted one another. Phoenix was staring at something next to the table that Ema couldn't see. Either because it was blocked by clutter or because she wasn't paying attention — she didn't know. Her mind was beginning to wander off again… toward the evidence she had just handed over to Phoenix. Her eyes roamed the office and, to her consternation, she found that she was imagining grabbing it and running away with it.

That was her cue to leave.

"I better go," she said jumping to her feet. Phoenix rose too, a look of uncertainty quickly being replaced by comprehension as he nodded. "Thank you for everything Mr Wri— I mean, Phoenix," she amended when she saw the amused exasperation in his eyes. "I really appreciate it."

"You did the right thing coming to me, Ema," Phoenix said as they walked to the door and he opened it for her. Ema nodded feeling somewhat miserable and made to step out but stopped suddenly and spun to face him again.

"It will be alright won't it?"

Phoenix's eyes bore into her own for a long moment and he was serious now. His expression was inscrutable and she didn't know whether to be comforted or afraid. "It's always darkest before the dawn, Ema," he said cryptically.

"You know, scientifically speaking that's not entirely correct," Ema said nervously, trying to joke. "The darkest time of the night is when the moon…"

"Don't worry, Ema. The wrong will always be righted." Phoenix said with a comforting smile. She took a deep breath and nodded.

"'Night."

"Goodnight, Phoenix," Ema said walking out through the doorway and down the steps, throwing a smile over her shoulder at him without stopping. She heard the door shut quietly and she took another deep breath of fresh air. Or as fresh as it could get in the heart of populated L.A. She glanced at her watch: it was 1.27 AM. She would have been surprised at how late it was had it not been for the sudden tiredness she felt. So, rather than walking the 20 minutes back to her apartment, she took a cab home.

It was 45 minutes later, after having changed, brushed her teeth and curled up in bed, when Ema finally felt the full extent of the day's chores. She passed out almost immediately but found no rest. Her dreams were plagued by traitorous siblings, unjust guilty verdicts and twin pools of azure filled with pain that wrenched at parts of her heart that she hadn't known existed.**  
**


	5. Fragments of Deception

As I breathed and lived and laughed, I found,

That those, to whom I am forever bound,

Hold a power over my wretched life,

As sharp as the edge of a hunter's knife.

.'.

The trial had been over for over eight hours now; it was past midnight and the moonlight shone through the glass wall of the office, its silver beam bouncing off a trashcan blackened by smoke where a cocoon replica had recently been burned onto a framed picture of a young boy band staring at the camera. A crack in the glass distorted the smiles on their jubilant faces. Sheets of paper and books littered the ground so that the floor was barely visible. A charred guitar lay atop them hewn in two, the pieces separated by an axe. All the wall mounted flat screens that always displayed details of cases were now dark and devoid of information. One of the case displays for the guitars on the wall was smashed and all the floor lights which usually enhanced and drew attention to the instruments were off, prevented from shining any light in the darkness. And among this room of chaos sat a young prosecutor in his black chair strumming the guitar in his lap as he stared out at the stars without really seeing them. Klavier's mind was numb. It had been for a long while now. He kept replaying the trial over and over in his head but it generated no feeling in him besides heightening the iciness that seemed to have encased his thoughts. It was as if everything had frozen over and he was stranded in limbo, unable to find his way out.

He had watched, with conflicted emotions, his best friend since childhood put on the witness stand like some common criminal and accused of impossible things; smuggling, blackmail… and murder. As if this were not enough, Klavier had been forced to watch his oldest friend change from the righteous detective to a criminal mastermind whose wit, intellect and years of involvement with the law had almost helped him escape punishment. It was as though, ever since Lamiroir's statement, someone had been tracing the cold metal of a knife up and down Klavier's spine, pressing harder and harder into his skin until it stopped midway and plunged into his back. And he had turned around to find that the culprit was his best friend. Daryan's fall from grace had been as painful for Klavier as it had for his friend. He had seen the madness that seemed to overcome Daryan Crescend as he tried to press Machi into keeping quiet about his involvement. There had been no words strong enough to convey the disgust Klavier had felt at that moment, unable to comprehend the demon that had possessed Daryan. For a second, Klavier had been sure that it was not his good friend on the stand but a doppelganger.

It just didn't make sense.

They had joined together to fight crime — Daryan as a Detective and Klavier as a Prosecutor. Both having been orphaned at a young age by criminals, they had a lot in common but there was one thing that had bonded them in a fierce way — their hatred for criminals and their desire for justice. Also sharing a love of music, they had created a harmony between the two interests in order to fight against crime in the only way they could as adolescents. Until they could fight in a more effective manner that is. However, when Daryan made detective and Klavier prosecutor, they had decided to continue releasing their music in a bid to raise awareness of the crime that surrounded society and they had assumed it was their unwavering belief that had led to so many successful hits. They had been a team, always, in law enforcement and in their music. They had respected each other and understood each other… or so Klavier had thought.

He had been replaying the events of the trial in his mind over and over and he could not find a reason for the insanity that had gripped Daryan. That was not the boy Klavier had befriended. That was not the adolescent Klavier had shared plans with. That was not the man Klavier had rocked with. That man was unknown to him. That Daryan… was a stranger to him. He could not understand him.

And this infuriated him.

Daryan had had everything — he had looks, money, fame, success in, not one, but _two_ careers. Women fell at his feet, co-workers looked up to him and friends cared about him. Why had he done it? Klavier could think of no other reason than a desire for money which made no sense because Daryan was swimming in it — more was coming in every day. And so his crime was all the more senseless, all the more unbelievable — he had forced Klavier to watch as he was led from the courtroom, his hands bound by the very handcuffs he had been placing on others for years. He had force-fed Klavier a bitter dose of betrayal.

He threw the guitar in his lap across the room while letting out an anguished roar. Why? Why, why, WHY? After all their years together, all their dreams and fulfilment of those ambitions, why had he done this? Why had he thrown dirt on their friendship, why had he sullied everything they had accomplished? Did he not stop to think of the consequences of his actions? Did the selfish bastard not realise what he would be doing to his friends? The Gavinners had been more than just a rock band — that's what they had established, Daryan and he. They had privately joked, calling themselves the 'Soldiers of Justice', because the band had been a symbol of hope and a fight against crime. It had been a message to the masses — that crime was still being battled. That they hadn't given up. And what they had spent a decade building, and almost as long accomplishing, Daryan had destroyed within days.

All over a bloody piece of cocoon.

Damned Borginians. If they had never made such a fuss about those stupid cocoons, Daryan wouldn't have had to smuggle nor murder anyone and Klavier would still have his best friend by his side…

_And this is exactly how the criminal mindset is born — resent and rebel against the law for trying to keep people safe… You are accusing an entire race for the mistake of one man. A man who used his authority, used you and a 14 year old child for his irrational crime. He did not give a damn who he hurt. What if that cocoon had been discovered in your guitar? Daryan had not cared the jeopardy he put anyone in, not even you…_

"Mr Gavin?"

He lifted his head from his hands, his eyes closing in protest at the harsh light spilling in around the figure who stood in the doorway.

"Who's that?" he asked, his voice somewhat harsh. He didn't care — the fact that someone was coming into his office despite the late hour was bad enough but the blinding light was just adding insult to injury.

"It's Ema Skye."

His jaw clenched and had his eyes not already been half-shut, they would have narrowed. _The good Fräulein better have a very good reason for coming to see me…_

"Yes?" He said in a coolly.

"Can I come in?" she asked and Klavier's anger almost abated at the timid tone of her voice. Almost.

"Yes," he said curtly. "But close the door behind you, please. I have a raging headache."

She complied quietly before turning back to him. His eyes had adjusted to the dark of his office a long time ago and, with the aid of the moonlight streaming in from behind and reflecting off her, he could see her perfectly fine. She, however, was clearly having a difficult time. His eyes fixed on her, he watched her as she stood still until she could see enough to look about her. The expression on her face changed from wariness to shock as she surveyed the mess he had created over the last 8 hours.

"It is a mess, no?" he said, fake amusement lacing his voice.

She sniffed. "It's always a mess."

He blinked for a moment at the bluntness of her response before letting out a bark of a laugh. For some odd reason, he had expected her to tiptoe around him… Obviously, that was not happening. His laugh died as suddenly as it had come and he didn't respond, choosing instead to continue watching her as she observed the 'mess'. He didn't offer her a seat — he wasn't feeling very gracious. After all, the little she-devil had gone behind his back and consorted with the enemy. Perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad had she told him _and_ the Defense — but she hadn't. She had intentionally left out important details such as Lamiroir's attack and the little fragments of deception choosing instead to tell Apollo Justice — all of which had ultimately led to Daryan's arrest. And after all that, she had boldly come into his office when, by all accounts, she should be at home leaving him alone.

No, Klavier wasn't feeling very gracious at all.

"Is that an axe!" Ema's voice cut into his thoughts, disbelievingly.

He eyed the weapon on the ground. "Ja."

"Tell me you didn't hack at your own guitar with it." Ema said staring at him.

"I thought I heard _ein_ mouse inside it." He didn't expect her to believe him — stupid questions spawned stupid answers, that was all.

Ema opened her mouth to say something but seemed to change her mind as she glanced down at the dismal remains of his instrument. After a moment, she spoke again; "Where did you get that axe from? It looks familiar…" Her voice trailed off and she sank to the ground her hands skimming the wooden handle and the blade before returning her shocked gaze to Klavier. "This is —"

" — the murder weapon from the State vs McReady case, ja." Klavier finished. "I could not find anything else," he lied thoroughly enjoying the expression on her face. Tampered evidence was her worst nightmare. "I dislike mice." He wanted to laugh. He didn't know whether the horror in her eyes was because he might have ruined the evidence or the thought that he might have chased a poor mouse with the intention of butchering it. Whatever it might have been, though, the lie was worth it; she looked ready to explode.

Surprisingly, she didn't. Instead, she pulled out a pair of latex gloves and after slipping them onto her hands, proceeded to pull out a bag in which she placed the axe. Klavier watched interestedly while she moved to place the thoroughly wrapped axe in the corner behind the doorway, dropping her bag next to it. She began to rummage through the mess, he assumed, to find any other evidence that might need protecting from him. There was nothing else but Klavier did not tell her so. Instead, he enjoyed the sight of her frustrated attempts to identify objects in the dark. She was picking up papers and putting them in a pile on one of the speakers in the room and piling up books on the other. She picked up the scattered folders off the floor and…

"Fräulein, what are you doing?" Klavier's voice rang out sharply. Ema was either too absorbed to hear him or simply ignored him as she continued rearranging the folders in her lap, crouching on the ground. He stared at her, bewildered, for several minutes as she picked up all the documents and stowed them away in the filing cabinet beside him. If he wasn't mistaken (and he was sure he wasn't), she was… cleaning up his office. He was about to speak again when she walked out of his office swiftly leaving him staring after her not caring about the bright light pouring in. He was wondering if the good detective had lost her mind when she stalked back in, a broom in her hand and a determined look on her face. She marched to the cabinet he kept his guitars in and began sweeping the broken glass into one corner.

Klavier inwardly exploded.

"What do you think you are doing?" he demanded in a barely controlled voice. Her calm response only angered him further.

"You're going to hurt yourself on the glass. I'm cleaning this up."

Hurt? She was worried about him getting hurt now? Where was her concern when she had ran off to Justice and handed him all the evidence he needed to incriminate Daryan? Where had her concern been when he asked her if there had been any new evidence and she had lied?

"Stop cleaning," he commanded, rising from his chair. She looked at him, disturbed by the sudden coldness in his voice. His back was to the window and his face was bathed in shadows. She couldn't see his expression but the stillness of his body made her apprehensive. He suddenly seemed so much taller than usual, so much darker… so much stronger.

"If I don't clean this no one will. I'm not — "

"Go home," he cut across her.

"But — "

"I said," Klavier's voice was dangerously low. "Go home."

She stared at him for a moment and he saw the look of confusion in her gaze before she lowered her eyes and nodded. She gently placed the broom against the wall. Klavier turned his back on her, unable to look at the woman either out of guilt or resentment — he didn't know and he didn't care. He looked at his reflection in the glass window and, upon seeing it, admired the detective for not running away from him sooner; he looked thunderous, ready to take his anger out in anyway on anyone…

_Chink. Whack. Thud._

A yelp.

He spun around to find Ema Skye on her knees, clutching her hands, rocking back and forth.

Klavier moved with lightening speed. He was by her side in an instant and was horrified to hear the sound of glass beneath his boots; she had landed right in the middle of it. He leant down next to her and glanced into her face which was twisted with pain. As he followed her gaze to her hands, he was dismayed to find blood oozing from both of them. In one fluid movement, he slipped his hands under her and lifted her into his arms. Her eyes flew his as he carried her across the room and laid her into his chair before turning the lamplight on his desk on. He took her hands in his inspecting them for any glass that might have lodged itself into her skin and although he found no trace of any, he theorized that there could still be some.

"We need to take you to the hospital," he said, worriedly. "There might — "

"It's okay. My wound's clean," Ema interrupted. "I don't need the hospital. There's — "

"How can you know — "

"I studied to be a scientific investigator," Ema said calmly. "I failed but that doesn't mean I know nothing. It's fine. There's a first aid kit in my bag. Could you bring it over please?" Klavier stared at her uncertainly, still sure that the hospital was the right way to go. "It's okay," Ema said again. "Please."

Klavier nodded wordlessly and retrieved her bag from where she had put it. He opened the bag gingerly, feeling as though he was invading her privacy — which was absurd as she was the one who had asked him to do this. Trying to keep this in mind, he rifled through her things until he found a small package with the symbol of a green square and a white cross. He pulled it out and walked back to the young woman who was obviously trying to keep from getting any blood on his chair. She held out a hand to take it from him but he shook his head placing the kit onto the table and opening it.

"Do not be ludicrous, Fräulein. I will do it."

"That's not necessary," Ema began but he wasn't listening. He was pulling out a roll of dressing, bandages and a bottle of solution to clean wounds. Taking them into his hands, he crouched down beside Ema and motioned for her to hold out her hand.

"Really, I can do this myself," she protested.

"Fräulein," was all he said but the tone of his voice said the rest. She quietly did as he asked and got to work. He wiped her wound clean and saw a large gash running across the palm of her hand which he went on to dress and bandage. Gently pulling her hand forward and going to work on it, Klavier finally broke the silence; "How did you fall?"

Ema didn't answer straight away. "I don't suppose heels are the best footwear when there are shards of glass making the surface uneven and slippery."

Klavier glanced at her feet as a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "No, Fräulein. I would have to agree with you there."

"In my defence," Ema said quickly. "I didn't know I would be trudging through glass today."

"True," Klavier said as he disposed of the blood soaked cotton pad and picked up another to clean away the rest; she had several shallow cuts just above her wrist. Klavier was insanely grateful that there was no damage to her wrist. "But Fräulein, you are a detective are you not?"

"Yes…" she said, her voice suspicious and he ducked his head to hide the growing smile on his face.

"So you should always wear sensible footwear. You never know when you might be engaged in a deadly chase, ja?"

Ema didn't answer and he risked a glance at her face. She was staring at the window and there was no hint of a pout on her lips. He wondered if she had even heard him. He didn't speak until he was finished bandaging her hand and said, "There." She looked at her bandaged hands then and mumbled a thanks.

"Do not thank me, Fräulein Skye." He said shaking his head lowering his eyes to the floor. "I should be thanking you for what you offered to do tonight. And I must apologise for the way I spoke to you. It was harsh." He paused. "It has been a… long day."

"You're angry with me aren't you?" She asked and the sadness in her voice made his eyes snap back up to hers. He was not a liar and he especially would not lie to make someone feel better when he was in a mood such as this. But the way her eyes silently pleaded him… He knew that he had no reason to be angry at her. If she had bought him the evidence instead of taking it to his opponent, what would he have done? He couldn't have turned a blind eye to it — he would have done what the Defense had done. In fact, she had spared him the mental anguish of having to decide what to do with the evidence. The guilt at betraying his friend and his everlasting sense of duty had battled within him during the trial for a short while and he could still feel the after-effects. What would it have done to him if he had had more time to decide? Nothing, except make the conclusion that much harder to bear — because, in the end, he would have still chosen the path of justice.

"_Nein_," he sighed heavily shaking his head. "I am not angry with you. I am angry with him."

Ema leaned forward until her face was level with his. "If you need to talk…" She left the sentence unfinished and he smiled bitterly.

"_Danke_, Fräulein," he said. "I am…" At that moment, however, he happened to glance to the side and caught sight of her leg; it was bloodied and ripped at the knee. "_Mein Gott_!" he exclaimed and she followed his gaze.

"Oh," She sounded almost irritated rather than concerned. "Pass me the sal — "

But Klavier wasn't listening to her. He was wetting a cotton pad with more solution; "Pull up your — "

"I can do — "

"Fräulein, pull up your — "

"I told you I — "

"Fräulein!" He said. "Please, do as I say." Ema sighed and pulled up her trousers until her knee was bare and Klavier jumped on the wound immediately. It was deep too and he made sure there was no glass lodged here either. Once satisfied, he began to clean it gently so as not to hurt her and was impressed when she did not make a sound. He tried to ignore the softness of her skin and the flawlessly milky colour of her skin. It took all his control to remain focused on his task but this proved difficult — his mind was caught up in fantasies of his lips running across her skin down to her ankles as his fingers danced across the back of her…

"Ach!" He had to focus! This wasn't helping his concentration…

"What's wrong?" Ema asked and he shook his head mumbling, "Nothing, nothing…"

He finished the task as quickly as he could all the while focusing the rest of his energy on not thinking about… about_that_. Except by not thinking about it, he _was_ thinking about it.

_What was wrong with him?_

He jumped up and took a step back, straining to keep a smile on his face. "_Da sind Sie ja!_"

"What?" She said and he was amused to hear the Ema Skye trademark grump back in her voice.

"It means there you are, Fräulein." He translated and she nodded pulling the leg of her trousers back down over her leg. He turned around quickly so he wouldn't get caught up in another fantasy and placed the bottle of solution, bandages and dressing back into the kit he had taken them out from. He zipped the bag shut and turned around to hand it to her but was taken aback to find her standing so close. She was still pulling at her trousers wincing with every curse she muttered and he smiled. Until she straightened and glanced up at him.

And he was lost.

Her green eyes were wide, sparkling like emeralds in the dim light, encased in a perfect, heart-shaped face. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her lips were parted. They were red and full and the contrast against the creamy whiteness of her skin was triggering sparks in his stomach, his mind and body screaming at him to pull her into his arms and kiss her until the world ended. Part of him knew it was madness — Klavier Gavin never lost control of himself. To do so now, especially with a woman who could (and probably would) easily reject him, would be an excruciating embarrassment. Even as he thought this though, he stepped closer to the detective and his hand reached out to her face. He ran a thumb across her cheek and, to his delight, she did not pull away; her eyes closed. Her skin was like fresh silk — untouched, undamaged and soft in all its glory. He took another step forward until they were touching. The warmth of her body turned that spark into a blazing inferno that spread through him like wildfire. His hand circled around the back of her neck and he leant in slowly until there were inches left between their lips. He could feel her breath on his own and the scent of strawberries and chocolate was a pleasant combination. He moved closer until there were millimetres left between their mouths and he paused, giving her the chance to pull away, to say no. It would drive him insane and test the very limits of his control but he was a gentleman. So he waited, his eyes on hers which remained closed and the dark lashes resting against her skin only pushed him further. Still she didn't move away. One more glance at her lips, sweetly parted for him, inviting him in, and Klavier moved in to seal them with his…


	6. A Fellow Snackooer

Ema yelped as she cut her finger on the knife she was using to slice an orange. She moved swiftly to the sink where she ran her bleeding wound under cold water while mentally cursing everything from the orange to herself. Ema Skye was in an unusually foul mood this morning — of course a bad mood was not unusual for the detective but her grump meter was at an all time high. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was 4 AM and she couldn't find any sleep nor was the lack of food in the house the cause. It wasn't because she had just hurt herself while trying to carve the last of her fruit and it had absolutely nothing to do with the headache that was plaguing her. No, it was for a decidedly different reason that Ema felt angry enough that she could pick up the knife and chop her finger right off.

Turning the tap off violently, she yanked some kitchen towel off the roll and wrapped it around her finger before hunting down some plasters in one of the cupboards in her rather small bathroom. She didn't notice the mess she was creating in her search as shampoo bottles and toothpaste tubes flew right off the shelves — she was far too busy berating herself.

"Stupid," she muttered. "Can't even cut an orange without hurting yourself." To any bystander, Ema's fury at the mishap would have been a rather strange overreaction. However, at the core of this angrier-than-normal behaviour lay an embarrassing memory. Over two weeks had passed since that _incident_ in Klavier's office but Ema still could not find reprieve from the humiliation of that night. Her cruel mind kept replaying the scene of the almost-kiss with torturous quality; the scent of his breath, the power of his gaze, the strength of his hold — everytime she thought about it she could swear he was before her, doing it all over again. Except now she didn't lose her common sense, waiting instead for the phone to ring and interrupt the madness of the moment. Of course, this was around the time when the cringing and mortification set in. She recalled with painful clarity the way Klavier's arms had slipped away from around her as he stepped back towards the trilling phone, his eyes fixed on hers. His expression had been inscrutable but Ema didn't need to look at his face to know what he was feeling — the way he had then answered the phone and kept his eyes determinedly from meeting hers for the duration of the call had been enough. So, Ema did the only thing she could to maintain her dignity. As Klavier had refused to look at her, she had turned around, picked up her things and the bag with the evidence and walked out of his office silently. In hindsight, Ema realised that her exit had probably looked as though she had _wanted_ him to kiss her and had left in fury even though this was _not_ the case. She had only left to escape any further awkwardness. However, as if this had not been horrifying enough, she had found Klavier avoiding her throughout the next two weeks with determination. Whenever she had gone to his office to drop off some paperwork or get his signature, he was always out. It was interesting, therefore, that when she handed the same papers to an underling to take to him, the young man had no problem finding the prosecutor. Furthermore, Ema discovered that all the cases that had come the fops way had not been mentioned to her — another detective had been assigned all three cases.

"How convenient," Ema muttered as she thought about it for the twentieth time that night and the millionth time in 2 weeks. Of course, scientific analysis revealed he was avoiding her. Not that Ema needed scientific analysis to come to that conclusion. Any idiot with half a brain cell would realise how much Klavier regretted that… event.

"I don't blame him," Ema hissed finding the box of plasters and practically tearing it apart in her bid to pull one out. "I would run away from me too."

It wasn't Klavier's behaviour that had incurred her wrath. It was her own behaviour. Really, how was she any better than those ridiculous fan girls she was accustomed to chasing away? In the end, she had swooned in his arms like a typical bimbo. What on earth had made her think he wanted _her_? What in the world had made her think she was special enough to actually attract the attention of such a man? He was rich, handsome and successful and she had thought he wanted a failed-forensics-student-turned-detective? Ha! Is it any wonder he was avoiding her? She was foolish and delusional to the point of hilarity! He had been devastated by outcome of the trial and she, the ever-logical Ema Skye, had assumed his advances were more than just a way of comforting himself. He would have jumped on any woman that had been in the vicinity. Why had her logical _scientific_ mind failed her when it mattered the most? And why was she incapable of fixing the current situation? No wonder she'd failed her forensics exam. It was obvious she didn't have what it took.

"Right," Ema snapped making up her mind. She wasn't going to stew in this nonsense a minute longer. She grabbed the notebook and pen on the table in front of her and began writing;

**Klavier Gavin**  
**Famed Prosecutor/Singer** _(the closest Ema got to fame was being known as the 'mad scientist lady who chases us away' among his fans)_  
**Immensely successful in both careers** _(Ema was just about__**existing**__in her profession having failed the exam for the dream job)_  
**Moralistic** _(…weren't most people?)_  
**Perfectionist** _(why didn't he practice his perfection around crime scenes and stop his rabid fans from destroying them?)_  
**Hounded by all of woman-kind** _(Ema was so sick of being witness to it… Oh, who was she kidding? He was so handsome no modelling company was good enough for him)_

Ema sighed, setting the notepad aside. She couldn't even write a list without getting defensive. Why couldn't she just admit he was far too good for her? Why couldn't she get it into her head that she was nothing special? Not that Ema thought she was a princess or anything but she needed to stop getting annoyed at Klavier for steering clear of her. So what if he was avoiding her like the plague? She didn't need him and she certainly didn't crave his attention. She'd leave the attention-seeking to his 14 year old stalkers. She was a mature woman and she was going to act like it. So, with this somewhat hastily made decision in mind, Ema got up and went about getting ready. She showered, changed and set off to work stopping off at the usual stand to buy a bag of Snackoos and pick up a latte from the café nearby. By the time she reached the office it was almost 6 AM and there were very few detectives in who'd either stayed all night or started early like her. She marched to her desk and sat down in the ergonomic chair she had recently bought from that store near her apartment. The display had said 50% off and as Ema spent most of her time in the office, she figured she needed a more comfortable one than she had. Of course, despite the half off tag, it had still cost Ema the extra bag of Snackoos she always purchased. Nevertheless, as she sat down now taking a sip of her latte and opening her bag of Snackoos, Ema felt content. She could envisage many weeks of relaxation in this chair, laid back, a bag of her favourite fried dough cakes…

Suddenly, a pile of files dropped onto her desk followed by a gruff "Skye," and she yelped straightening in her chair. Her superior, the Chief of Detectives, was glaring at her through bleary eyes, his arms akimbo.

"Yes, Chief?" Ema enquired.

"Have those signed by Gavin. I want them on my desk by noon."

Ema's heart dropped at the thought of having to face the attorney before remembering that he was giving 'avoiding' a whole new meaning. She glanced at the pile now on her desk before speaking again.

"What are — "

"Cortez files. They need his signature." His voice floated over his retreating back.

"But I'm not the detective on that case!" Ema protested after him.

"I don't care," he growled. "Get it done!"

Ema shoved a handful of Snackoos in her mouth so there was no space left for the profanity dying to escape and chase after the grouch. Well, she wasn't going to chase after the stupid fop. If he wasn't in his office when she went she would give the files to someone else. She'd lost enough time stewing in thoughts of the ridiculous man and she wasn't about to waste anymore.

"Wait a minute…" Ema said suddenly chewing on her lip as a bright idea occurred to her. She stared for a moment at the folder before her and decided she could leave it on his desk to sign and then she would have someone pick it up. He wouldn't be in for work till much later on and although his office was probably locked there was no harm in trying — he was laid back enough to actually leave it unprotected. After all, she thought picking them up and starting off towards his office, everyone was so damn worried about invading his privacy, they wouldn't go in without knocking (with the exception of Ema Skye of course) so the files would be safe. She had very little care or respect for the nitwit and she demonstrated this by barging into his office. In that one step from one side of the threshold to the other, Ema thought two things. One was the fact that the door _was_ unlocked. The second was —

"Oh."

There were two men seated near the floor-to-ceiling window. One was clad in shocking yellow and Ema recognised him as Deston Cavatin — the Gavinners drummer. The other was in a purple suit that most would look ridiculous in but he, somewhat annoyingly, pulled off. They both seemed to stop mid-sentence to look at her and, to her chagrin, Ema found herself burning up which meant she was blushing which meant _he_ would assume she was shy of him which meant —

"Fräulein Detective," Klavier said and the surprise in his voice was evident. However it lasted only for a moment. When he next spoke, he sounded so calm and almost bored that Ema could have sworn she had imagined it. "You are in for work early."

"So are you," Ema said, finding her voice. She marched forward and set down the files on his desk with a little more force than necessary. He glanced at them for a moment. "I need your signature on these."

"Certainly," Klavier said smoothly no hint that her bad mood had registered with him. As he picked up a pen from the desk, however, Ema saw him glance at Deston meaningfully but before she could work out what it meant, his eyes were down on the open folder and he was scribbling away. Ema stood in stony silence, staring out of the window and refusing to look at the prosecutor or acknowledge the other Gavinners band member. Evidently, the latter had other plans as he swivelled his chair deliberately facing her and extended a hand.

"Deston Cavatin," he said with a smile and his voice, like Klavier and Daryan's, was melodic. "CJIS Division, FBI. And the lead drummer in the Gavinners."

Ema was lost for words as she shook his hand but luckily for her, Klavier made a strange noise which caught Deston's attention; "What's so funny, Gavin?"

"'Lead drummer'," he smirked. "That's what you say when you want to sound as important as I to the fräuleins."

"Huh," Deston rolled his eyes. "I'm in the Gavinners. I think that's enough to attract the attention of any woman I want — if I want it." He turned back to Ema who watched the entire exchange with bewilderment. "He is arrogant, isn't he?"

Ema decided at that very instant, that she liked the Gavinners drummer. He looked good despite being dressed a bit outrageously. Not only was his suit a bright yellow, it looked an awfully lot like it was tailored out of silk. On the other hand, he was just as handsome as Daryan and Klavier; his hair was short albeit a little crazy (was it a trend?) in that it was a mass of black chaos that didn't look to be tamed any time this century. His eyes were a stormy gray and he was tanned (yes, she was sure crazy hair and a tan was the Gavinners uniform). But what ensured Ema's approval of him was the fact that he recognised Klavier for what he was: _an egomaniac of tremendous proportions_.

"Yes," she said, nodding. "He is definitely that."

Deston smirked. "See, Klavier. An honest opinion at last." He turned to Ema again who, under the stress of being in his office, had pulled out the half empty bag of Snackoos. This seemed to catch Deston's attention who smiled widely at the detective.

"Hey, a fellow Snackooer!" Deston exclaimed and Ema froze.

"Did you just say Sna…?" she trailed off in a hushed voice.

"Yeah!" Deston laughed. "I love those!"

Ema couldn't believe it. He was rich, famous, handsome, saw the fop for the arrogant berk he was _and he likes Snackoos._ Ema could have swooned. She didn't believe in love at first sight but this… She felt a grin spread across her lips as she stared at the young man lounging in the chair before her and, without thinking, she extended her bag to him. He looked taken aback at the way she thrust it at him but he seemed to take it in his stride and took her up on her offer. He slipped a few (well manicured, Ema noticed) fingers into the bag and pulled out some of the snacks.

"You're very generous Ms Skye," Deston said in between mouthfuls.

"How do you know my — ? " Ema frowned. Had the fop mentioned her name?

"I've seen you in trial." Deston answered her question and Ema nodded. _Wow, he can read my mind too_, Ema thought._Unlike somebody else I know._ She threw a dirty look at Klavier who, interestingly, was staring at the both of them with something akin to astonishment. No he wasn't staring at them, he was staring at something in _between_ in them. Ema followed his gaze to the bag in her hands and her eyes widened. Before she could threaten him with a painful death for even thinking about it, Deston did it for her; "Don't even think about it, man. Snackoos are sacred. Asking a Snackooer for one is signing your own death warrant."

Ema blinked. Yes, she was in love.

"I was thinking no such thing," Klavier said smoothly.

"Oh yeah?" Deston smirked. "I'll pay you a thousand dollars to tell me what you _were_ thinking. And no lying."

Klavier rose an eyebrow and Ema resisted the urge to Snackoo him. "Easiest grand I'll make today, Deston," he said with a small smile. "I was trying to recall the precise moment you developed an affinity for cheap snacks."

Ema froze. Her eyes narrowed on the purple blob who was still grinning at his friend.

"Now you've done it." She heard Deston say and somewhere in the back of her mind, the smile in his voice registered. But right now she was far too busy listing the various ways she could kill the glimmerous fop. Maybe death by Snackoo choking. But no, that would be a waste of her precious snacks…

"What…?" Klavier said as his brow furrowed in confusion but when his eyes turned to Ema who had, by now, turned red he understood the warning Deston threw at him. "No offense to you fräulein." He added hastily. "I only meant Deston has expensive tastes — "

"_What?_" Ema hissed. Was he calling her tastes unrefined?

"Stop there," Deston chuckled. "You're choking on your foot, K."

"Hurry up and sign the damn documents." Ema snapped. "I didn't come in early to be insulted by you."

She could see Klavier opening his mouth, possibly to protest, but Deston interrupted suddenly maybe because he thought his friend was about to make matters worse for himself. However, what he said next made Ema forget her anger.

"Miss Skye, would you care to have breakfast with me?"

"_What?_" Ema and Klavier said together but Deston barely noticed, keeping his twinkling eyes fixed on her.

"I know this delightful little place you will just love," Deston explained standing up. "I'm very hungry and it seems like you are too. Say you'll join me."

Ema's mouth opened and closed in shock. She realised she must look utterly ridiculous standing there gawping like a fish but the whole scenario was beyond her. She had practically no experience with men — they usually avoided her — and yet here was one of the Gavinners asking her out to breakfast! Okay, maybe it wasn't a date but he wanted to eat!_With her_! Her mind quickly worked through the various motives he might have for it but seeing as how they had only just met, there was nothing that he could want or need from her could he? So, it meant that he honestly just wanted to… spend time with her? With this (somewhat amazing) realisation in mind, Ema nodded without casting a glance at her boss. Why not? She was early, she _was_ hungry and one of the most wanted guys in the world was asking her to eat with him!

"Great!" Deston exclaimed seeing her nod and motioned toward the door. "I brought my car, I hope you don't mind if we — "

"_Ein_ moment, Deston." Klavier interrupted.

"'Sup, K?" Deston turned to look at his friend and Ema's eyebrows rose.

"Fräulein Skye has paperwork she needs to do."

"At…" Deston glanced at the watch on his wrist. "Half 6 AM? She can do them when she comes back, can't you Miss Skye?"

Ema stared stonily at her boss as she answered, "Yes." She wasn't going to forget that cheap comment. Klavier shrugged indifferently.

"See?" Deston smiled. "She'll pick them up when she's back. Come Miss Skye," he said placing a hand on her back and gently leading her toward the door. "I'll see you later, K." He threw over his shoulder.

Ema thought she heard Klavier grumble something that sounded like "_Auf Nimmerwiedersehen_!" but she wasn't sure. Deston chuckled but before she could ask about it, she was being led out of the office. He was asking her so many questions that she barely noticed the walk to the car and she couldn't even remember sliding into her seat let alone the insignificant exchange. She was caught up in talking about forensics history and Deston seemed to listen to her with more attention than she had ever received from anyone. He asked all the right questions and he seemed genuinely interested. Before she knew it, he'd got out of his car, practically sprinted around the front and was holding open her door for her. She thanked him and he smiled warmly inclining his head. Ema secretly gave him 5 points each for being a good listener and a true gentleman. Again, he laid a hand subtly on the small of her back and led her through double glass doors held open for them by doormen. Ema didn't have the chance to see the name of the place but once inside, she decided she didn't really care. It wasn't large but it sure was classy, she noted as Deston pulled out a chair for her.

"Wow, I can't believe this place is open so early," Ema said as Deston settled into his own chair before her.

"This place serves amazing breakfast," Deston said handing her a menu. "I always come in here when I'm in town."

Ema felt a pang of disappointment. "You're not usually here then?"

"Well, mostly," Deston smiled. "But sometimes I'm elsewhere."

"Oh, okay," Ema nodded opening her menu because she didn't know what else to say. Even though she was disappointed at the news, she wasn't going to let him see it. However, when she saw the columns of breakfast choices, she was stumped. She'd never heard of these! What the hell was a 'Cinnamon Eggy Bread'? Well, she could guess at what it was but what in the world! Bruschetta with Ham & Egg? Whatever happened to good old egg and toast? Ema frowned in frustration. She didn't know what she might like and she didn't want to order something she might not like. On the other hand she didn't want to ask Deston and sound simple. Maybe the glimmerous fop _was_ right. She _was_ too unrefined…

"This is your first time here," Deston said and Ema smiled sheepishly. "I have the most fabulous recommendations unless you want to order for yourself?"

"No," Ema said hastily folding up her menu with relief. "If you like Snackoos then I trust your taste."

Deston laughed and beckoned someone over. Within seconds, a waitress had appeared and was blushing furiously as he gave her their order. Before she turned away, Ema saw the little hussy throw a calculating look her way as if trying to sum up the extent of the competition. Deston seemed not to notice.

"So, Ema," he said leaning forward. "How did you end up working for K?"

"I didn't know I would be working for him," Ema grumbled before smacking a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. Deston grinned.

"Ahh," he laughed. "It's refreshing to see a woman who doesn't swoon at the sound of his name."

Ema relaxed a little. "Well, I actually wanted a job in forensics but that didn't work out. So I applied to become a detective because that was the closest I could get to forensics." She sighed. "I thought I would be working under Mr Edgeworth…"

"Miles Edgeworth?" Deston asked curiously. "The Demon Prosecutor?"

Ema stiffened. "He isn't…"

"Miss Skye," Deston interrupted. "Don't be annoyed with me. I'm only using the title as a clarification. I have the utmost respect for the man."

"Oh," Ema said a smile brightening her face instantly. She rather liked Deston and didn't want to fall out with him. "Yeah, that's the one."

"Yes, he left to go abroad a year after Mr Wright's disbarment." Deston said smoothly and Ema glanced up sharply. He didn't look smug or disgusted like the fop usually did whenever he mentioned Phoenix's name. He simply looked like he wanted to make conversation. Apparently, her scrutiny was clear because he chuckled again. "I respect him too, Miss Skye, so please don't glare daggers at me."

"In that case, you can call me Ema." She said relaxing and he nodded leaning back in his chair as the waitress returned with a plate of small croissants. He picked one up and handed it to Ema (who was pleasantly surprised to find they were warm) before lifting one to his own lips.

"So, Ema, would you mind answering a question for me?" When Ema looked up at him, he continued. "Why are you immune to K's charm?"

Ema snorted. "Because he's a fop." Again, the words tumbled out from in between her lips before she could stop them and she slapped a hand to her mouth when she remembered who she was tlking to. "I'm sorry! I didn't…"

Deston's eyes widened and he suddenly brought a hand up to his lips before starting to violently cough.

"Deston, are you alright?" she asked, concerned. Instead of ceasing however, he seemed to double over, resting his head in his arm and coughed, if possible, even more violently shaking the table in the process. Ema, now thoroughly alarmed, threw down her croissant, shot to her feet and was by his side in an instant with a hand on his shoulder. "Is there something stuck in your…" However, that was when Deston threw back his head and roared with laughter while she watched on in bewilderment.

"_Doch, ich sehe es!_" He gasped and she narrowed her eyes as she stomped back to her seat and sat down in it trying to ignore the handful of people in the restaurant glancing their way. Seeing the frown on her face he sobered up a little but the grin never left his face. "I'm sorry, Ema. I'm not used to K being addressed as a fop."

"Well he is!" Ema snapped and he threw his hands up as if warding off a physical attack.

"I agree, Miss Skye." He chuckled. "I'm sorry for laughing. As I said before, it's _so refreshing_ to hear a woman speak so cynically of him."

"Well, I'm not impressed by him," Ema said looking off to the side with a pout.

"I know! I love it," Deston said.

"Anyway," Ema said changing the subject picking up her croissant and nibbling on it. "I didn't know you're German."

"I'm not," he said picking up one himself. "I just know it. I speak it with K so I slip into it sometimes. It's a bad habit."

Ema smiled. There was something about Deston that made it okay even though she couldn't stand this trait in a certain prosecutor. It was in this banter that Ema and Deston spent the next hour and a half forging an unlikely friendship and exchanging information about themselves. Ema learnt that he had been interested in forensics himself but had eventually decided to join the Criminal Justice Information Services Division in the FBI where he found he could 'play about' with some fingerprinting data (Ema envied him). In general he seemed the more analytical type and he loved reading and evaluating the crimes that took place all over the States. She was fascinated with the stories he told her and the cases he'd read about, some recent and some as old as 50 years ago. Her intense interest in the Zodiac killer and the Night Stalker seemed to both amuse and surprise Deston. He knew very few women who could absorb the kind of detailed information he gave the detective without getting squeamish especially while she was eating.

Ema was enjoying herself for the first time in weeks maybe even months. The stress she always seemed to be under lifted as she enjoyed the hearty breakfast he had ordered for the both of them and he had been right — she loved every dish that was set down before her. She hadn't tasted such fantastic food ever since she'd started living alone. Lana had always been the cook whereas Ema was a disaster in the kitchen if motivated to try anything more complicated than scrambled egg and toast. So, she relished the rich taste of the food while she could because she knew this wouldn't happen every day if at all. The Gavinners star really had amazing taste but then again she'd realised this simple fact when he'd pronounced his taste in Snackoos. She was further impressed when she pulled out her money for the bill and he flatly refused to allow her to pay. _What a gentleman_, she thought as he led her out of the restaurant and offered to drop her off at her workplace. The ride back was just as fun as the rest of the morning and just before getting out of the car, he handed her his cell phone number in exchange for a promise that she would keep in touch before driving off. So it was with a smile that Ema walked back to her desk and settled down in her chair her worries all behind her. She could hardly believe that just a few hours before she had been fuming and anxious. When she went to Klavier's office to pick up the files she had left with him, she barely noticed the clipped tone in which he told her he'd left them on her desk. Upon returning to her desktop, she saw them lying neatly in the corner and wondered how she'd missed them.

"Oh well," she said chirpily carrying them over to the Chief's office. "It doesn't matter."

Of course this new lack of attention to detail meant Ema didn't see the prosecutor enter the room just as she left it. Nor did she see the jealousy that flared up in his usually friendly eyes at the smile that danced upon her face.


	7. Intrigues

With a laugh, into the night She fled,

And, now, by the moonlight I see;

The ship of life on which I've been bred

Is sailing on uncertainty.

.'.

Klavier Gavin made sure that the masses enjoyed themselves at every Gavinners concert. He and his fellow band members always performed live (none of that ridiculous miming), they always composed their own music and played their own instruments. No cheating. He was an honest man and as such, felt that everyone should get their money's worth. It was for this reason that he felt he deserved his fans. However, sometimes even he grew tired of performing for others whether as a rock star or a prosecutor, and it was at these times that he would retreat to this reclusive spot where he could get lost in the peaceful density of the trees and revel in the solitude the river offered. It appeared Mother Nature was pleased with him; she rewarded him by playing her own music for him — every time he visited this spot in his desire for privacy, the heavens opened up and the sound of the rain on the river made him feel as though his very soul was being bathed, purified of his sins, washing away his burdens and drowning his troubles.

Except today.

He'd sat under a tree for hours now staring out across the water trying to focus on it rather than the depression that seemed to be creeping into his mind and digging its claws into his thoughts. He felt more and more like a dark cloud was hanging over his head no matter what he did. He could barely sleep, he couldn't sit still and if he managed to, he would freeze into some pose, withdrawing into the darkening abyss of his heart. Usually, he was plagued by reminders of Daryan. It had been over 2 weeks since the trial and he had not visited his friend. No matter how much Deston and the others tried to convince him to go, just once, and talk to the fallen guitarist he refused. He might have listened to them if he knew why Daryan had done what he did but when he asked if they knew the reason, he was greeted by silence — meaning Daryan had refused to answer which proved to be all the fuel Klavier needed to keep the fire inside him raging.

They were all devastated by Daryan's betrayal. They'd all been close but he'd been Klavier's _best friend_. He'd known him since childhood. He'd grown up with him and shared everything with him. He'd been closer to him than _Kristoph_, his own flesh and blood. How could the man, who was for all intents and purposes like a brother, do this and refuse Klavier the courtesy of an explanation?

His phone vibrated against his chest. He let it ring for a while before lifting a hand to it numbly and taking it out. The caller display said it was Deston. He'd been checking up on Klavier almost every day since the trial; he would ring and when Klavier didn't answer, he would visit by the office. Of course, this irritated the prosecutor immensely — he wasn't a child. And then there was that other reason. A reason called Ema Skye.

Annoyed, Klavier pressed the reject button and placed his cell phone back in his jacket. As if Deston wasn't annoying enough without striking up a budding friendship with the Fräulein. Whenever he came to see Klavier, Deston made sure to at least stop by her desk to talk for a minimum of 30 minutes. If she was at a crime scene, lo and behold, Deston would be there. Klavier wasn't the only one who'd noticed the pairs camaraderie — the rest of the world had become privy to their 'friendship' thanks to the media. Klavier scowled as he remembered the cosy photographs he'd seen in the newspapers earlier on of the two laughing with a raging headline that had already caught half of the nations eye by noon. Nobody would believe the two were friends — Klavier knew them both and even he could not guarantee it was nothing more. Of course, Deston's smile when Klavier had questioned him on the matter had not reinforced Klavier's confidence in his claims of 'strictly friendship'. Usually she was found at her desk or rushing around snapping at people but now… Klavier found himself searching for her regularly and his frustration at being unable to find her was not good for his already unstable blood pressure. He wasn't _jealous_. He just didn't want Deston disrupting the smooth running of his workplace — if things didn't work out, Klavier was sure Ema would started avoiding him as well as Deston which would be quite inconvenient as he was her boss…

"Ach!" he punched the grass. Who was he kidding? He was in love with the woman. She did nothing but run through his mind all day and tease him in his dreams at night. Ever since that night in his office, he'd woken up every night, his body wracked with desire and his mind afflicted with longing. He'd been an ass to her and he knew it but he didn't know how to redeem himself. He'd cringed time and time again at the look on her face when he'd pulled away to answer the phone — it haunted his every waking moment even floating in and out of his dreams at times. What could he say that would explain his behaviour? How could he tell her that he had almost disrespected her? How could he explain that, in his grief, he'd almost touched her for the sake of soothing his bleeding heart rather than because she deserved to be kissed for being her? Would she even understand? No, Klavier didn't think she would. And so, to avoid causing her any further pain, he'd practically hidden from her. Yet, this had paved way for the very thing that was eating out his heart with jealousy — he'd given someone else a chance. A very close someone else. He didn't know whether Deston was serious about her or not and, try as he might, he could not get an answer from the moron except for an excruciating silence and an annoying smile. If Deston was serious Klavier would step aside and let his friend make her happy — after all, he'd had his chance with her and he'd ruined it. What right did he have to interfere now? But he'd have to find out once and for all. He had to know where it was going.

But what if it wasn't serious?

Klavier didn't know the answer to that. Would he tell her how he felt? And what about how she felt? Would she want him? Or was she content with Deston? There were so many unanswered questions, so many what-ifs that he felt as though his head would explode. He also knew that even if she did feel something for him, she still deserved more than what he could probably give her right now. His mind was a train wreck, his emotions all over the place. He was sat under a tree, drenched brooding on the cruelty of life — what could he possibly offer her? He wanted to give her something he'd never given anyone — his heart. Except nobody wanted a ruined gift and that's just what it was. It was filling with bitterness and anger. He wanted to give her a whole heart, pure and red not mangled and blackened.

Because of his best friend… and his brother.

The two people he should have relied on the most had betrayed him and both refused to offer him an explanation for why they had turned his world upside down and ruined life for him. Because of their betrayal, Klavier was doubting everything from his friends to himself. It was because of them he wondered if he could trust anyone anymore. It was because of them he wondered if he could trust himself to love Ema the way she deserved. It was them holding him back even now from behind bars.

Kristoph. His own brother.

When he had discovered his brother's trial he had flown straight back to the States and the first thing he had done is visit him demanding an answer, preferably a vehement denial of the crime he was accused of. Kristoph, however, had done no such thing. With a simple smile and a raise of the eyebrow he had informed Klavier he was as guilty as the Devil and not to worry his 'pretty little head about it'. Klavier, needless to say, was infuriated and had it been anyone else sitting in his brothers seat, he would have punched him. Instead, years of intimidation and reminders that he was the 'younger, less brainy Gavin' had forced Klavier to simply leave, unsatisfied and shattered. He and his brother had never been best friends but they'd been brothers. They'd talked, dined and vacationed together. As children Kristoph had taken care of Klavier when he was bullied sometimes striking out to defend him.

It was with those hands that Kristoph had punched a hole through his chest and punctured his heart.

He pounded the ground again and shook his head vehemently. _No_, he thought to himself, _I'm not going to go through this again with Daryan. They both made their choices, without a thought for anyone else. Why should I spare them any?_

Thankfully, just then his phone rang again as if someone had sensed his need for a distraction. With a sigh of relief he yanked out his phone again but just as he hit the answer button, it stopped ringing. He checked to see who the caller was and, to his surprise, found it to be Ema. His heart skipped a beat just as it always did whenever he saw anything connected to her. This was why he loved her — because of the smile now creeping onto his face. He was about to ring back when an idea sprung into his mind. He couldn't tell her what he felt _directly_ but who said he couldn't do it_indirectly_? So, instead of ringing back and inquiring as to the reason for the call (after all, it couldn't be urgent otherwise she would have carried on ringing till he answered), he stood up and walked to where he'd left his hog. His favourite place may not have given him the purification he sought but it had given him a genius idea.

* * *

Everyone watched as Ema and Deston walked back into Criminal Affairs laughing and joking. There was a certain comfortableness about the pair which backed up the claims made in the newspaper and the fact that the two continued to spend so much time together despite the news was a confirmation for the masses. Ema Skye had received her share of glares and insults from crushed fan girls on the streets both when she was with and without Deston. Whenever he heard someone shout her way he defended her with gallantry she had seen in few men. Even though the comments were unwarranted as there was nothing romantic in their relationship, some of the days events had been entirely too entertaining. It was one event in particular that had the pair in stitches as they stumbled towards her desk completely oblivious to the stares of some of the staff.

Deston was trying to wipe some ice cream off himself that had been aimed at Ema but had ended up colliding with his face and hair instead when he'd moved forward. The look of horror on the girls face when she saw who she'd hit coupled with Deston's blank and blinking one had been priceless — they'd both been unable to stop laughing ever since. Every time Deston stopped, Ema would set him off again and when she stopped, he'd set her off again. And so it went on and on.

"I think I just cracked a rib," Deston gasped leaning against her desk.

"Nonsense," Ema said through peels of laughter. "It's scientifically impossible to crack your rib laughing."

"Really?" Deston asked calming down then suddenly held up a finger. "No, please don't answer that. Your answer will probably set me off again."

Ema simply nodded and they both silenced in their mission to get their laughter under control. Deston was running his hands through his sticky hair and she looked away quickly and bit her lip to stop herself laughing. She was trying hard not to remember the way he'd frozen when the ice cream had connected with his face and the helpless manner in which he'd tried to remove it smearing it through the rest of his hair instead. She focused on her desk to clear her head of the image and found some new documents on it. There was one, that seemed to catch her eye. On the top of the pile was a small note that said HS-9. Ema frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Assuming it was just a forgotten memo, she moved the pile aside making a mental note to ask if anyone had lost it. She turned her eyes back to Deston who was grinning at her and the sight of his sticky, messed up hair made her laugh again. Deston joined in, his eyes lighting up… But for another reason entirely — he'd seen the note and he knew what it meant.

His plan was working.


	8. What Lies Beneath

Just a reminder: OC's, original plot and poetry all belong to me.

* * *

"Ema Skye?" a voice asked and she looked up from her paperwork to see a young man looking around the office while holding a bouquet of yellow roses in his hands.

"What is it?" She said waspishly although she was sure she knew what it was. He moved toward her and handed her the flowers and packet of Snackoos.

"These are for you."

"Er…" Before she could ask who they were from, he'd turned around and walked away and she was left with flowers in one hand and Snackoos in the other and a confused expression on her face. "Weird," she muttered setting them both down on her desk. Who would send _her_ roses? She focused on them and saw that they weren't purely yellow — the ends were tipped red. Her fingers weaved through them for a card or some form of message that would let her know who they were from but found nothing. A frown on her face, she turned to the Snackoos which were also free of any labels or messages.

"Well," she said with a shrug. "Free Snackoos. Thanks stranger."

"You're welcome," a voice responded and she turned around to find Deston leaning against one of the desks, a small smile plastered on his handsome face.

"You sent these?" Ema asked returning the smile. He nodded as he approached her side and he winked.

"Do you like them?" he asked.

"They're beautiful!" she exclaimed touching the petals. "But what are they for?"

"Just to brighten your day," Deston said looking up from the roses at her and flashing her another smile "You've been so swamped with work lately, I thought you could use something to cheer you up."

"Ugh, yeah," Ema made a face settling into her chair. "And it doesn't help that some idiot keeps leaving memos on my desk."

"What kind of memos?" Deston asked curiously as he pulled a chair from one of the other desks and seated himself opposite her. Ema picked up the trash can from the floor and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper which she opened up and showed to him. It had HS-9 scribbled on it. "Ah."

"I've had about a hundred of these," she grumbled throwing it back in. "I've even told the entire office that whoever is leaving these, they're going to the wrong person but they still keep turning up!" Deston laughed at her irritation.

"What does?" Klavier's voice interrupted and she and Deston turned to find him sauntering up to them, his thumb hitched in his belt. He was looking from one to the other with a small smile. He stopped before them and looked at Ema expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Those memos I keep getting," she said waving her hand dismissively. She had already mentioned them to him. "Anyway," she said picking up her new presents. "Look what Deston got me!"

As Klavier's eyes landed on the roses and the Snackoos, his expression darkened and he looked at Deston instantly. "_You_ got the fräulein detective these?"

"Yeah," Deston said with a smile. "Is that difficult to believe?"

"No," Klavier said but the clipped tone of his voice was at odds with his denial. He turned to Ema. "I need you to interview Leo Cadaverini again." And before Ema could reply, he turned around and walked away. She glared after him. Glimmerous fop. What was his problem? Probably didn't like that someone was getting more attention than him for once.

"Some people like to ruin someone's day," she grumbled and Deston chuckled. She turned to him and complained; "That's the third time he's asked me to interview that brute! I hate it. Cadaverini's impossible and he's always making these dirty innuendos."

Deston glanced at Klavier's retreating back before looking at Ema. "Consider it a compliment. He wouldn't tell you to do it unless he thought you were capable of handling said brute." Ema pouted. At least there was some truth to these words. "When are you planning on going?"

"I don't know," she replied shrugging her shoulders and setting her roses down again. "Maybe tomorrow. I've got so much work to do."

Deston nodded. "I better go too, Ema. I have a few things to do myself. Enjoy your Snackoos. It was hard for me to part with them."

She laughed. "Thanks." Deston inclined his head as he walked backwards and smiled at her. She watched him with a grin as he turned away and continued on until he was out of sight. She sighed and sat down at her desk again. Her eyes landed on a note that was in the middle of her desk and saw that it was the same memo. Where had this one come from! She was half tempted to grab everyone who'd walked past in the last 5 minutes and demand to know who the culprit was. However, realising that she wouldn't know who had actually walked by, she crumpled it up and threw it in the basket instead, where it rested with the rest of its brothers. In a snap decision, Ema picked up her handbag, the packet of Snackoos and walked towards the exit. No matter when she interviewed Leo Cadaverini, he would ruin her day — why not do it on an already crap day?

* * *

"I know what I'm doing," Deston's voice broke across the silence of the prison hallway unexpectedly and Ema stopped in her tracks. She frowned and looked at the door on her left from where his voice had come and found that it led to Cell Block D. She hadn't known Deston was here but there was nothing suspicious about that — he was a member of the FBI after all. He was probably just investigating something. She herself was just leaving after having questioned Leo about his knowledge regarding a murder. She'd talk to him later — he was probably busy. So, with a shrug, Ema made to continue on while wondering if it would be considered stalking if she waited outside for him… The next voice that spoke stopped her in her tracks.

"You sure about that man?" Most of the inmates voices usually became hoarse after a while due to the lack of conversation but Daryan's voice was still as smooth as ever.

"I know you're eager for this to work Daryan, but so am I." Deston said and Ema noticed the impatience in his tone. Her eyes wide she retraced her steps to the doorway where she leaned against it out of sight. What was going on? There was nothing strange about Deston visiting Daryan — they were friends and colleagues after all — but what was this plan they were talking about? She didn't like the sound of Deston's voice — it sounded secretive… sneaky.

"I _need_ it to work, Cavatin," Daryan sounded impatient too now. "You don't."

"You've always been self-centred," Deston said exasperatedly. There was no reply from Daryan and Ema edged forward wondering if she could peek inside without being seen. Suddenly there was a thump and a "hey!" from Deston that would have made her jump had it not been for the fact that she was not easily surprised — one of the perks of being a detective. She tried to discern what she could from the silence but it seemed as though the two were still. She frowned willing them with her mind to say something more so she could understand what the hell they were planning — whatever it was, it didn't sound good. And she needed to know what it was.

"Does Gavin know?" Daryan asked and had she not been so intent on making out his words, Ema would have been surprised at the solemnity of his tone.

Deston didn't answer straight away; he snorted and this sound _did_ surprise her. "Yeah right. You think I'm stupid? I wouldn't tell _that_ bastard anything if my life depended on it."

"Just checking," Daryan drawled. "He has a way of acting like your friend at the right time and then turning around and stabbing you in the back."

"I know," Deston agreed.

"I don't wanna know what kinda crap he'd pull if he found out about — "

"I know, Daryan," Deston interrupted. "He won't."

"Gotta make sure you ain't taken in by his sweet words, man." Daryan laughed.

"Shut up, Crescend," Deston replied but he was laughing too.

Ema listened as quietly as she could, barely daring to breathe as she slowly stored away the pieces of this conversation for analysis later. All sorts of thoughts were starting to run through her mind and she had to fight against them to keep it clear — she needed to gather as much information as she could now.

"What about Adagio and Aded?" Daryan asked and Ema recognised the names as the remaining Gavinners artists. "Do they…?"

"No," Deston replied. "I haven't told anyone and I don't plan on doing so."

"Good." Daryan sounded pleased. "Adagio doesn't know how to keep his trap shut and Aded is — "

" - simplicity personified," Deston finished. "I know."

A phone beeped suddenly and Ema's heart nearly leapt out of her throat before she realised it wasn't hers. Reeling from the terror of the possibility that she'd been discovered, she snatched her phone out of her bag and turned it off thanking her guardian angel she hadn't been caught out. This relief, however, didn't last very long. Even though it hadn't been her phone that had sounded…

"I have to go," Deston said suddenly and Ema pushed herself away from the wall, somewhat panicked. "Tess wants to see me."

"Tell her I …" Daryan's voice faded off as Ema moved as swiftly and stealthily down the hallway as she could. She couldn't risk hanging around and getting caught by Deston — she had a feeling he wouldn't take well to it. So she kept on walking (practically running, rather) until she had wrenched open her car door, slid inside and slammed it shut behind her. Thank God she'd finally had the sense (and the courage, because it took a lot to fork out 2 grand) to finally buy a car. Otherwise who knows if she'd be able to hide from Deston otherwise. She could see him descending the steps and she ducked beneath the steering wheel. Ema knew he wouldn't suspect her — she was a detective after all and there was nothing unusual about her visiting the prison but whether she'd be able to control her emotions right now if he saw her was another matter entirely. So she waited an appropriate length of time before peeking out over the wheel to see if he was still around and just saw him pull away in his ostentatious Maserati. Thankfully, he hadn't seen her and Ema wasn't going to give him a chance to. So she waited for 5 minutes. And she pondered.

It was clear that Deston and Daryan were up to something and nobody else knew about it. Nobody except her.

She needed to know more. She had to find out what the plan was. But how? Deston and Daryan were the only ones who knew what it was and she doubted either of them would tell her. She supposed she had to follow Deston around and maybe even try to find out who visited Daryan in prison aside from Deston. Perhaps there was something to be found there? But Ema knew that wouldn't be easy. She would have to be careful following Deston around — no doubt he was accustomed to such behaviour being a servant of the law and an admired artist — not to mention she had a job which she also had to attend to. Maybe she could get someone to help her… No, that idea was thrown right out of the window the moment it came to her. She didn't want this getting back to Klavier. How would he take it? He was obviously barely coping with Daryan's incarceration. Ema's mouth turned into a downward pout as her thoughts turned to the prosecutor she had seen so little of. Granted, she barely talked with him but Ema found it impossible not to think of him every so often especially when she was Deston….

Ema's anger began to rise at Deston. She had thought he was a good man, a good friend. But he'd turned out to be no better than Daryan. In fact he was worse than him — at least Daryan didn't pretend to be a gentleman and a caring friend to Klavier. Deston had fooled everyone into believing he was the epitome of kindness when, really, he was the devil incarnate. It may have seemed a harsh judgement of the man especially having only heard a few lines but there had been no mistaking the scorn and hatred in Deston's voice when he'd spoken of Klavier. And that was enough for Ema. She didn't need any more proof that something was wrong — anybody who pretended to be a good friend while harbouring such dark hatred inside was clearly not trustworthy.

She shook her head. The discovery was taking time to sink in. She had spent the past few weeks in Deston's company and not once had she imagined that beneath the pleasant exterior lay a wolf in hiding. It seemed that she still wasn't wise enough. After all, hadn't Gant been just as amiable and helpful and kind? Had they not all trusted him also? How could she, with her experience, have fallen for such an obvious cover? When had she become naïve enough to believe that such charm was genuine? She was lucky she had discovered what she had in time — now she could do something about it and maybe prevent Klavier from getting hurt…

So what should she do first? Follow Deston or go back inside and find out more about Daryan's visitors? Maybe there was something in the video footage — after all, every cell was constantly being watched. But she could do that any time. Deston had just left and who knew where he might be going? He could lead Ema to somewhere she could find more answers…

No. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. No, she needed time to deal with this. In this state, who knew what kind of a mistake she might make? She could give herself away completely. She needed to get her emotions under control.

But what if this unprofessional behaviour cost her a valuable lead?

It was this thought that caused Ema to take a deep breath and start her car — she had been sat here for five minutes but maybe - _maybe_ - fate would be on her side and traffic might slow him down. Hastily she pulled out of the parking lot and glared impatiently at the guard at the exit who insisted on checking her car for any convicts she might be smuggling out despite the fact that she was a detective. By the time he was done, Ema had lost all hope of being able to follow now and she cursed her own ineptitude as she pulled out on the road but Fate _was_ on her side. For some reason, Deston had stopped a few cars ahead and had pulled up. Ema almost panicked — what could she do? She couldn't stop because that would look too obvious and she couldn't go on because one can't exactly follow someone behind you — but she managed to get a grip just in time and turned left. She could loop around the block until he moved — and she hoped he would move soon. This prayer, too, was answered as upon her 3 round, Deston had began to move and she pulled in just around to corner to see his car going left. She followed him all the while making sure there were at least two cars between her car and his. In her concentration, Ema almost missed a red traffic light while nearly colliding with another driver. She ignored them however because she was far too preoccupied making sure she never lost sight of Deston. It was, therefore, a little disappointing and anti-climactic when Deston stopped outside Hickfield Clinic. Ema stopped a few feet away but she watched as he got out of his car and jogged inside out of view before following after him a few minutes later.

Ema didn't need to follow Deston himself nor did she need to ask anyone where he'd gone. All she had to do was follow the whispers and giggling of the women and the direction in which they looked for her to realise which way he was headed. A Gavinners always left behind a trail. So it didn't take long for her to realise which room he was in. She edged forward slowly and saw the door open which made the eavesdropping that followed a hell of a lot easier.

"Thanks, Deston." A hoarse female voice. Ema frowned — she didn't recognise it.

"No problem, babe," Deston said and Ema's frown deepened at the smile she heard in it. It was an interesting contrast to the scorn and hatred she'd heard earlier. "How are you feeling today?"

"A little better," the mystery woman replied. If she was better and she sounded this bad, Ema wondered what she must be like on a bad day.

"You look better," Deston said.

"Thank you for the generous lie," she laughed gently.

Ema wished she could take a look at the woman.

"It's no lie, Tess. You always look amazing." His voice was so genuine that for a second Ema forgot the horrible way he'd been talking about his friend. He really was a devil.

"How's Klavier?" Mystery Tess asked and Ema edged closer to the door frame, pulled by the sound of her voice.

"Still angry," Deston said quietly and Ema rolled her eyes at the fake sadness in his voice. She couldn't believe she'd fallen for this…Well, she could believe it because even now hearing him talk she had a hard time reconciling this Deston with the hateful one.

"I suppose I don't blame him. If I was in his position I would be angry too…" Tess said and Ema raised an eyebrow. Who was she and how did she know Klavier?

"If he would just see you, I think he might forgive. But before he comes to see you, you have to — "

"No, Deston," Tess said gently. "Not yet."

Ema's heart sank. What did all this mean? Was Tess… intimate with Klavier?

"I know that if he just listened to you, just _once_…" Deston was talking fast now and he sounded frustrated. "Tess, please let me bring him here. Just _talk_ to him! I'm sure if you did he'd understand!"

"Or become even more angry," Tess interrupted calmly. "We've been over this before, Deston."

"But — "

"Please," she said quietly. "Just trust me. This is the best way." Deston growled but said no more and Tess laughed. "Thank you, Des." There was a sound which could have been a grunt and Tess laughed again. "You're such a sulker, hon." Her laughter turned into a cough that only seemed to get worse and worse. She heard Deston rushing about inside and verbally comforting the woman while Ema listened on in silence.

She was quite shocked. First at the prison and now this. Why had she never heard of this Tessa who was clearly attached romantically to Klavier? He was so well known, how could no journalist have found out about something like this? Even at their workplace there was not even a hint of her, no picture of her on his desk, no mention of her from Klavier… Ema supposed it was because Tessa was sick. Maybe he wanted her to enjoy her peace and quiet. However, from the sound of things, it seemed as though they'd had a falling out. Ema wanted to know what it was; it made her feel somewhat… hopeful. Which was ridiculous. Why should she care? His love life was his private affair… although it did explain a lot. But they were talking again and Ema had to focus.

"How are Raoul and Seren?"

Ema frowned. Those names sounded familiar… Oh right. Raoul Adagio and Seren Aded. The other two Gavinners members. This was the second time she'd heard their names… Was it a coincidence? Ema didn't know what to make of it.

"They're good," Deston answered. "They've been…"

Ema's ears picked up another sound.

Footsteps.

Headed towards where she was hiding.

She looked back and forth between the exit and the door that led into Tessa's room. What to do? If she remained standing here she'd be caught, which could blow her cover. With one last look at the exit from where the sound of the footsteps was coming from, Ema stepped forward and peeked inside the room with a knock on the door. Deston was lounging in a chair facing the woman in bed. He turned around to look at her and a bright smile lit his face as he jumped up.

"Ema!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Ema hesitated for a split second. "I brought Phoenix in for his check up — you know, from when Meraktis almost ran him over — and I heard someone say you were in. I thought I'd say hi."

"I'm glad you did," he said enthusiastically laying a hand on her back and moving her forward. "I wanted you to meet Tess anyway." He looked at Tessa with a huge smile. "This is Ema."

"Hello Ema."

She smiled. Ema finally got a good look at the woman at last. Her eyes were big and blue and innocent, her golden hair cascaded around her on the pillow making her look like an angel and when she smiled, she looked like the sun had risen. Ema wondered how a woman could be so ill as she obviously was and still look so amazing.

_Imagine what she looks like healthy_

"I've heard so much about you," Tess said holding out a hand and Ema took it in hers while raising an eyebrow at Deston.

"You have?" she asked, surprised.

"Oh yes," Tessa said. "Des has told me all about you." The man in question was beckoning for Ema to take a seat and she did so without a word. He, himself, leant against the wall next to her before Tessa patted the empty space near her legs. "Come sit here," she said to him and he complied.

"I hope he's been saying good things," Ema said only half joking.

"Oh yes," Tessa said. "He's praised you to high heaven. I feel like we're best friends already!"

Ema raised her eyebrow at him and smirked. "Well, well," she said. "You'll have to tell me what he said."

"Yes, well — Ema, where's Mr Wright? I thought you said he was with you?" Deston interrupted hastily while Tessa giggled. Ema paused.

"He met a friend and they decided to go for coffee." She replied smoothly, quite proud of herself for her swift thinking. Deston questioned her a bit more and they all fell into easy conversation. Tessa was a sweet woman, Ema found — and that was a high compliment from the detective. She usually found women annoying at best but Tessa was so blatantly genuine and sweet it was difficult not to like her. Her and Deston appeared very close and seemed to care a great deal about one another. However, Ema was no longer taken in by Deston's charming behaviour — she had seen what lurked beneath the pretty face. And what she had discovered was very ugly indeed.


	9. Enigmatic Soul

I own nothing except for the OC's original plot and the new poem-y thing. Prepare yourselves for a Klavier-fest

* * *

And to escape them, I have tried my best,

To keep together the hole in my chest,

While fighting them in my search for relief

As they steal my rest and kill my belief.

.'.

In the loneliness of the night and the shades of the dawn, Klavier had found there was just one face before his eyes and only one scent torturing his senses – green eyes and wafts of citron on the air. It was as though someone had unleashed an invisible doppelganger on him, to haunt him, punish him for his mistake in the office that night. Every day he had to endure the sight of his friend laughing and joking with her. He had to watch in silence as Deston hugged her, took her out to… well, he didn't know where. And when they were gone from his sight he found no reprieve; his mind took over to continue the job. He imagined the many things they did when they were alone. There was no way to know of course – Deston was old-fashioned and as such would not go beyond what he believed to be appropriate public displays of affection (a hug, a peck on the cheek, a brush of his lips against her hand) let alone even mention it. So Klavier was left with the possibilities conjured up by his imagination – and imagine he did. Deston lounging on a sofa with Ema in his arms as he brushed her hair away from her face to kiss her smiling lips…

"Ach!" Klavier sat up straight in his chair, rubbing his eyes as if someone had jabbed him in them. There was nothing he could do to stop these damned visions from infiltrating his mind and working their way down his body, sweeping through his heart like a knife, taking a piece of it for the ride to settle in his stomach where they danced around till he was ready to vomit. The fire of jealousy was consuming him, destroying him and he wondered how long it would be before he was reduced to a pile of ashes.

He sighed. Of all the women in the world, of all the girls that stalked them, why did Deston have to be interested in Ema?

Actually, Klavier figured he knew why. He supposed he had himself to blame – partly. He had, after all, been the one who told Deston all about Ema, how she was so stubborn, refusing to be impressed by his success, charm or cheesy pick-up lines. Of course these type of women appealed very much to Klavier – and Deston. The rest he blamed entirely on the Fräulein herself. She was far too attractive and endearing for her own good.

It took a lot out of Klavier not to be angry at Deston and take a swing at him for laying hands on her. Every time they touched Klavier wanted to punch him and the only thing that held him back was the fact that he'd had his chance and blown it. Deston didn't know he was treading on Klavier's toes – hell, even Klavier himself hadn't known how he truly felt about her till he'd seen her with Deston. How could he blame his friend for being more of a man than he was? Instead of talking to Ema about what happened, he'd hidden away like he was back in high school.

"K?" a voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to find Deston standing in the doorway, an eyebrow raised and a hand in the air as if he was about to knock on the open door. "You okay?"

Klavier scowled. There was that concern he was sick of hearing in Deston's voice. It was as though he expected him to break down any moment.

"What do you want?" he said aggressively and Deston looked surprised. _And so he should be, _Klavier thought. It wasn't just the concern that was grating on his nerves nor the jealousy that he had to live with on a daily basis. There was another reason and Klavier very much wanted to hit Deston in the face for it.

"You having a hard time writing the next hit, man?" Deston asked as he dawdled up to Klavier, an eyebrow raised. "You could always ask for help from the other members of your band. You know. Like me."

"Why did you lie to Fräulein detective about the roses?" Klavier blurted out suddenly. He hadn't meant to say it and the realisation that he'd probably given himself away was mortifying but he wouldn't let that show. So, with tremendous effort, he kept his face blank as he stared at Deston.

For the second time in under 5 minutes, Deston looked briefly surprised; he smiled and cocked his head to the side. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn't send those flowers." Klavier said standing up.

Deston leaned against the wall, his hands snaking into his pockets as he smiled. "And how do you know that?"

"It's not your style to send unsigned stuff." Klavier said lamely but he was unwilling to admit the truth.

"How did you know they were unsigned?" Deston said and he sounded amused now.

"I heard you." Klavier snapped. "You are evading my question."

"You're right," Deston said pushing himself away from the wall and sidling along the cabinet while examining the guitars on display. "I don't send unsigned presents. But I told her that it was from me so at the end of the day, they weren't really _unsigned _per se. But – " he said turning around and looking at Klavier just as the latter was about to interrupt. "You're also right in believing I didn't buy her the roses."

"Why – "

"Well someone sent her roses and they weren't signed so I figured why not take the credit?" Deston shrugged with a devilish grin. "He obviously didn't care who she thought they were from."

Klavier fingers curled into a fist and he wanted nothing more than to smash it into Deston's face. The only thing that held him back was the fact that he didn't want him knowing that _he_was the one who'd sent the roses to Ema… He knew he was wrong for even thinking the way he was but Ema was _his. _In his heart, in his mind, she was always meant to be his – he'd never imagined for a moment anybody else would whisk her away let alone his friend. He'd lived in a bubble of safety where she would be available when he finally decided he wanted a relationship.

And this thought made him sick.

It was true – he'd been an arrogant pig. He hadn't realised her worth until it was too late and, just as he deserved, he had lost her. What added insult to injury was that he had already had his chance.

"You alright, K?" Deston's voice broke through his thoughts and he focused on his friend. There was a frown creasing the usually smooth skin above his eyes and his head was tilted to the side.

"Yeah," Klavier said looking around for his jacket. He needed to get out of here.

"What are you looking for?" Deston asked.

"_Halt den Mund!_" Klavier snarled as he stormed out of his office not caring about offending Deston, what his behaviour would look like to an already worried friend and least of all, about his jacket.

* * *

Water rushed over and around his boots, unable to move the frozen prosecutor as he stared directly at the setting star on the horizon. Many passers-by had seen him as they returned to their cars after a day out at the beach but none approached him even upon recognition. Although he had done nothing but stare out across the swaying water, there was something about his presence that screamed his desire for privacy.

To any that saw him, he was an impossibly perfect figure and to his fan girls he looked sexier than ever; his black shirt clung to the muscles that filled out his frame. His body was encased in the rays of the dying sunlight – his face glowed golden and his hair shimmered as the wind caressed it, giving him the appearance of an angel. Yes, to many he looked more beautiful than ever and they probably would have rushed to him and he would have been drowned either beneath the masses of females or the water. However, there was one thing about him now that stopped them from doing that very thing; there was something deeply unsettling about his posture – no other part of him was moving. His hands were clenched into fists and a few fancied they had seen blood drip from in between the curled fingers. What they could see of his face was blank and in the impending dimness of the twilight, the chiselled features of his handsome face looked dark in a way that had nothing to do with shadows. Were it not for the fact that nobody would set a statue of Klavier Gavin in the middle of the beach, they would have believed him to be made out of stone for nobody who loved the star and had followed his work could reconcile this man with their idol. In those moments, he was the perfect manifestation of the tragic heroes in Greek legends… doomed to be remembered for his troubles rather than his achievements.

And so, on they went, throwing furtive glances filled with excitement, longing and curiosity until the beach was deserted and the day fully gave way to night. Still, the young man remained standing in his spot, uncaring of the attention he had drawn to himself, barely feeling the dampness growing around his feet nor did he care that the setting sun had strained his eyes – there was just one thought on his mind: _his own star was setting._ He'd continued staring until the stars had crept across the blanket of the night to rest overhead and finally a second thought came to his numb mind: _Yes… it's gone._

Such dark emotions can never be explained – they can only be felt. And this was why Klavier spoke to nobody of the hopelessness that had engulfed him. Many would wonder what could possibly induce such a deep depression in a hugely successful man… And how could he explain to them? To those who had what he lacked, how could he explain the value of those things? Because Klavier knew human nature – nobody appreciated anything until it was gone. How could he tell them that he would give up both his careers, his royalties and his life just to undo all that he had seen over the past few months? How would those who had never experienced the loss of a brother understand him wanting Kristoph back? _Good riddance_, they would say._You're better off_, they would say. _Who needs a brother like that?_ they would say. And the same would be said for Daryan; _evil man! Trying to frame a child_. But Klavier knew Daryan wasn't evil. All those years he had spent with his best friend, there was no way he wouldn't have noticed it if Daryan had truly been evil.

And then Ema. _If it's meant to be, it will be, _he could hear them say sympathetically. _If it isn't then… there are other girls. You'll find someone else and one day she'll be lucky if you remember her name._

But there was no such release for Klavier. Not too many knew he believed that love only came once in a lifetime and it had come to claim him. He had always imagined falling in love would be passionate and strong and saturated with joy. He had always imagined himself spoiling the love of his life with gifts; jewels, vacations, clothes, food… _everything. _Yet, for a prosecutor, whose job it was to be sceptical, cynical, he had found himself to be the most naïve of them all. He had lost his brother and best friend – and he suspected it had happened long before their trials and incarceration. And now he had lost the woman he loved to another friend.

So what did a man live for after losing all that?

The answer came to him, unhindered, unprecedented; he lived to die.

There was no change in his expression, no break in the rhythm of his breath – his mind accepted this realisation with the serenity of one who had been told it would rain. The only change that came was in his movement. His hands unclenched and he looked up into the sky with a wry smile wondering if his mother was looking at him right now. He rarely thought of her, mostly because it was too painful, but what was pain now? It would soon be over anyway. Why not spend a few moments to recall the green sparkle of her eyes when she would smile at him with the maternal love radiating from her in abundance? Why not close his eyes and imagine she was wrapping her arms around him again in a bid to absorb some of his hurt? Adelita Gavin's son moved forward as the silence of the sea called his name. He didn't know if he would see his mother again… he had been raised believing there was no place in heaven for people like him. Then again, would he have gone to heaven anyway? So with the thought of his mother, the essence of her that sprung from his imagination and memories enveloping him, he pushed himself deeper in the depths of his recollection knowing this was his last moment with her… even if it was only in his mind.

"_Ich hab dich lieb, Mutti_," he murmured and the words of love that had not been spoken for years punched another hole in his battered heart. But he didn't care and he took another step forward. It would be over soon. It would be over soon. His mind turned, for a brief moment, to the only other woman worth remembering at the perilous edge of this precipice. A smile crept onto his face as the detective's face wavered in his minds eye and he murmured another proclamation of love, "_Ich liebe dich von ganzem Herzen, Ema_." He wondered if she would miss him. He wondered if she would even care. He took another step forward. He was knee deep in the water now.

"Stop."

And he did. Klavier frowned; he wasn't sure if the voice was real or the desperate resonance of the coward in him that was afraid to die. When he didn't hear it again he shrugged it off and moved forward again.

"Stop."

He froze for a second before turning around slowly to face the owner of the voice and found a woman standing a few feet away from him where the water lapped at her bare feet. Klavier stared at her blankly; and she stared right back with a serenity that made the tranquillity of the night seem like a thunderstorm.

"May I help you?" Klavier asked hoping to sound indifferent but he was embarrassed to find his voice was unsteady. He hoped she didn't know what he had been about to do.

She continued to look at him in silence. She wasn't observing him or taking in his appearance. No, her eyes were fixed intently on his and they weren't moving. Unnerved by the steadiness of her gaze, Klavier moved his eyes swiftly over her. She was tall for a woman and dark-skinned – a honey coloured complexion. Her hair was long and black framing an oval face featuring slightly defined cheekbones, plump lips and dark, dark eyes. However, stranger than her shadowy appearance was the clothing she wore – it was a white dress that hung off her, flowing in the gentle wind and contrasted around her in the most unsettling manner wrapping around slender limbs. Stranger still was his inability to put an age on her. He'd never met anyone who looked as ageless as she did and yet every time he looked into her eyes he was sure she had lived a hundred years.

At last she spoke; "Take a walk with me."

Klavier was taken aback. He hadn't expected such an invitation and so thrown off balance was he that he blinked for a few moments before approaching her. She had turned slightly to the side and was waiting for him, never taking her black eyes off him until he was finally by her side. "Take off your boots." His eyes widened in surprise but unwilling to argue with her, he complied while she waited. Finally, barefoot, he stood up and looked at her as if awaiting further instruction. She was looking ahead and when he was done, began to glide along the edges of the water and he followed suit in silence, confused and somewhat disconcerted by this strange woman.

"You're Klavier Gavin." She stated. With any other woman he would have probably snapped and told her he wasn't in the mood for autographs but something about the tone of her voice told him that wasn't what she was interested in. He didn't reply; the way she had said it didn't require an answer.

"You are…" she was quiet for a moment as if searching for the right word. He didn't offer any but continued to walk by her side feeling it wasn't his place to be suggesting anything to her. "…a symbol." He was stunned at the statement and he looked down into her face because although she was tall, he was taller. The look on her face was still serene but the argument that had been rolling off his tongue died behind sealed lips.

"I've been watching you since you first stepped into that water four hours ago." Had it really only been that long? To Klavier it had felt like a lifetime. "Your feet are damp." He frowned, still not saying a word, but confused by her strange tangents. "Do they feel better now?" She sounded amused and he relaxed enough for a moment to actually feel his feet – she was right. The texture of the sand beneath his wet feet did indeed feel good. He waited for her to talk again preparing himself for another strange remark or question but it never came. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye – she looked familiar but he was sure that, had he ever met her before, he would remember her. She was too distinctive to forget and push to the back of ones mind. There was something ethereal about her; he didn't know whether it was the contrast of colour between her genetic make-up and the clothes or the strange depth of her eyes. Klavier couldn't put his finger on why he couldn't stare her in the eye and he didn't have the courage to actually look at them long enough to figure out what it was. No matter how anxious he might have felt around her however, something told him she was not an average woman. How else could she have pulled him from the water with one word?

"You were going to make a very grave mistake, Klavier," she said suddenly and he started. For a second he forgot that he felt he should hold his tongue around her and the fact that she knew what he'd been about to do didn't register in his mind – an anger overtook him almost instantly and he stopped.

"And what do you know of mistakes, Fräulein?" he said quietly. She had stopped a few steps ahead of him and she turned around very slowly to fix him with her sharp gaze.

"A lot," she said calmly. "And I have learned from them – only too late."

"We all make different mistakes," he said looking away and out over the water again. "You don't know what – "

"I know what you have been going through," she interrupted quietly and he looked at her again. She was staring out at sea too now and the moonlight reflecting off the water hit her eyes making them look more unearthly than ever. "The world knows your troubles. A fallen brother and a treacherous friend…" Something inside Klavier screamed in protest at the harsh judgement but he held his silence. "And judging by the pain I heard in your voice, an unrequited love." Klavier's face flushed with embarrassment at the fact that this stranger had heard him proclaim his love for a woman who didn't even like him. She pierced him with her gaze again. "Everyone knows you're going through a troubled time which is why you absolutely must not take the route you were going to."

"What…?"

"If you were an average man one who nobody knew except family, friends, maybe a partner, it would be bad enough. But to do this when you are a symbol of strength and justice to so many in the world is..." She shook her head. "That would be the biggest betrayal of all." Klavier opened his mouth to speak but she raised a hand and cut him off. "Your death would be a message of despair – that evil cannot be beaten. And it is not so." Klavier wanted to argue. He wanted to say that nobody would care about his dying that some would probably even rejoice in it but something stopped him – and that something was recognition.

Recognition of the truth in her words.

"_Unter schwierigen Umständen zeigt man, was in einem steckt,_" she said and Klavier's head turned so fast to face her that he was sure he'd pulled something in his neck. He barely felt it – she had repeated the very sentence his mother used to say to him when he was little; _one shows what he is made of under difficult conditions_. There was nothing unusual about her using the phrase, it was commonly used in his homeland. But that she had used it tonight of all nights when he had been remembering his mother…

"Have you read Hamlet?" She asked and he paused for a moment wishing he could keep up with her before nodding. "Do you know what caused his downfall?"

"The ghost of his _vater_," Klavier said plainly. She gave a swift nod.

"The Ghost was the beginning. What really caused his downfall was his mind – he thought and thought. And when the time came for action, he'd spun so many webs of confusion in his mind that there nothing coherent left in it."

Klavier frowned. He'd never really thought of it like that. He had always assumed that thinking was a way to organise one's thoughts, ensuring no rash action was taken. Yet this mysterious maiden was saying otherwise… and making sense.

"Show them what real strength is, Klavier Gavin," the woman whispered. "Don't disappoint the ones who care for you because of the ones who have disappointed _you_."

Klavier gazed at her for several long moments in which she did the same. Their eyes remained locked and it was as though some other exchange was taking place; he was thanking her with his azure pools and her black ones seemed to be _you're welcome-ing_ him.

"Thank you," he said after a moment not content with silent gratitude. "I had…" he took a deep, unsteady breath. "Forgotten. Thank you for reminding me." She simply inclined her head in acknowledgement. "May I ask you something?" She inclined her head again. "You mentioned mistakes…?" He didn't go on, instead giving her the chance to pretend she didn't understand his question and evade answering it if she chose. To his surprise, she smiled.

And it shattered his heart.

The smile reached her eyes – but not the jubilant or the kind type. This was a smile that screamed of regrets, sorrow and in the silence that followed he was sure he heard the terrifying sound of a broken heart. He almost took a step back in fear of it – to him it was at once the most terrible and beautiful thing he had ever seen. In her smile he saw so many things he had never even dreamed of or imagined and he wondered what she had been through to be able to summon a smile like that. Did he really want to know?

"I made many mistakes, Klavier," she murmured the smile still lingering on her lips. "Nothing I can do now will undo the consequences of my actions."

"_Es tut mir Leid_," he muttered.

"Don't be," she said kindly. She approached him and laid a hand on his cheek. He was taken aback by the soft and cool feel of her fingers on his skin. "Go back to the battlefield and fight. Go back to her."

Her hand on his cheek coupled with her words had suddenly made him more emotional than he had ever allowed himself to be in someone else's company. His entire being softened and he swallowed before whispering, "_Danke schön_."

"_In der Liebe und im Krieg ist alles erlaubt_, Klavier." She stepped back. "Fight."

He nodded and looked at his feet as he always had done as a child when his mother had kindly reprimanded him. He was about to say something, anything to fill the silence, express his gratitude to the woman silently stood before him but his phone rang and he cursed. He took it out of his pocket and glanced at her with an apologetic look. She gave him an understanding smile and another tilt of the head before he turned away and answered his phone.

"Ja," he said and he was pleasantly surprised to hear his own professional tone of voice had returned leaving no hint of the past few hours.

"Where the hell have you been, Gavin?" he smiled as he imagined the scowl that would accompany Ema's words.

"I have been, ah… preoccupied." He said.

"Hmph. Deston wants to talk to you." Klavier would have felt an overwhelming sense of anger at the fact that they were together – again – but he felt only a slight twinge of jealousy now. He felt reborn, rejuvenated. He felt ready to fight.

"Whatever Deston is wanting you can say to me too, Fräulein detective." He said teasingly.

"Oh fine, wait a minute," she snapped and he smiled as he heard her say something to someone – no doubt Deston – on the other end before speaking again. "There's been a murder. We need you at the crime scene."

"Okay. Where?"

"I'll message you the details, I have to go." She answered briskly.

"_Danke. _I will be there as soon as possible, ja Fräulein?"

"Good. Make sure you are, Gavin." And she hung up on him before he could reply. Chuckling, he put his cell phone back in his pockets and turned around. "Fräulein, do you nee – "

His companion was nowhere to be found. He scanned the beach for her, surely she couldn't have managed to walk far in such a short time, but found it deserted. He frowned and spun towards the sea hoping against hope she hadn't walked into the water for some strange reason but nothing – the water seemed undisturbed.

Where had she gone?

He scanned his surroundings a few more times but when he found nothing he made his way back to where he'd left his hog looking over his shoulder every so often expecting her to suddenly reappear by his side. As he straightened his motorbike and mounted it he felt an overwhelming sense of loss — as if he was losing a life-long friend. With a start as shocking and sudden as the sound of his bike when it roared to life, he realised that she had saved his life - and he didn't even know her name.

* * *

Heheh… So guys what do you think? I hope you liked it! (o.O) Hope tis not too disappointing. First I'll give you guys a translation of the German in this:-

Halt den Mund – Shut up

Ich hab dich lieb, Mutti – I love you, Mom

Vater - Father

Es tut mir Leid – I am sorry

Ich liebe dich von ganzem Herzen! – I love you with all my heart

Unter schwierigen Umständen zeigt man, was in einem steckt - One shows what he is made of under difficult conditions

In der Liebe und im Krieg ist alles erlaubt – All is fair in love and war


	10. Son of War

Ema was eyeing the forensic experts enviously as they delicately sifted through the flat looking for the vital evidence that would prove the suspect guilty. Her hands were itching to pull out her luminol and fingerprinting powder from her bag and jump among the elite team when she heard her name called…which was just as well. She didn't think she could have lived down the inevitable humiliation of rejection that she would no doubt suffer at her attempt. She looked over her shoulder to find Phoenix Wright with his hands in his pockets and a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Mr Wr — I mean, Phoenix!" Ema exclaimed and hurried toward him. "What are you doing here?"

"…I heard there was a murder. Wondered if anyone needed an attorney. Apollo has a lot of time on his hands." His eyes seemed to take on a far away look as if he was mulling over something. "Too much time, I think."

"Um…" Ema glanced over her shoulder at the forensics again. "I shouldn't really say anything but…" Phoenix wait patiently as she chewed on her lip. "We're pretty sure the suspect is guilty."

"I've heard that before," he said, amused.

"Well," Ema said throwing one more look behind her and leaned towards him. "The victim — Landon — is a 21 year old who was having an affair with the suspect's girlfriend. After murdering her lover, Gerard turned on his partner — Caz — and attacked her."

"Uh huh." Phoenix nodded for her to continue.

"But something made him stop before he could outright kill her. We suspect it was the fact that she was pregnant. However, she has suffered from the attack and is currently in hospital. There's a possibility she might lose the child. She's named him the murderer and the evidence matches her testimony."

Phoenix was quiet for a moment and then he sighed, "Sounds pretty definite to me." He looked around the crime scene. "Ah well. If Apollo can't work then I suppose Trucy and I will have to find some other way to pay the rent..."

She looked away at the cops crawling all over the place so that he wouldn't see the pity in her eyes. She didn't think he would take well to it. He acted nonchalant all the time but Ema was certain that beneath the casual appearance, he was more devastated than anyone imagined. However, it was a moment later that the words fully registered and the pity in her eyes was replaced with amusement.

"You have Apollo paying for the rent now?" She asked.

"He's a part of the agency," Phoenix said vaguely. Ema wasn't fooled — she hadn't missed the implication and she was sure that Apollo was doing more paying than the other two.

"I'll let you know of any other cases that might crop up," she promised.

"Ah… Thanks, Ema." Phoenix smiled.

"You're welcome Mr — " She stopped and sighed looking at the ground. "That's going to take some getting used to."

Phoenix chuckled. "So I see. You know for a moment there, I could have sworn you were 16 again." When Ema frowned in confused he explained, "You always had a habit of looking at the ground when you were upset."

"I did?" Ema said with wide eyes.

"Yep." Phoenix smiled. "Like someone else I know. I haven't seen her in a while either…" He looked off into the distance again and Ema was sure he was reliving some memory that involved this 'someone else'. She was going to enquire further but he spoke again and all thoughts were driven out of her mind. "Where's our prosecuting legend? He's usually at the crime scenes isn't he?"

Ema scowled. "He's probably off somewhere signing autographs." She pouted like she always did when she was displeased. "I did tell him to come but that was an hour ago…"

Phoenix didn't reply straight away; he was watching her with a curious expression she couldn't immediately identify and before she had a chance to try, it was gone. "How is he doing?"

Ema's expression softened as she recalled her boss. She hadn't forgotten that Phoenix had told her to be there for Klavier and she had tried but after his reaction to her aid, she had been very reluctant to try again. That night in his office flashed in her mind. She had her pride after all and… well, he didn't seem to want her help obviously. He'd gone out of his way to avoid her. What could she do about that? So she could answer Phoenix confidently; "Um yeah he's…"_couldn't she?_ "...he's all right I guess. I…" she took a deep breath. "…don't really see him much."

Phoenix was silent and although she was looking away she could feel his eyes burning holes in her. She cringed inwardly at the possibility that he might be displeased with her. He had, after all, told her to be a friend to Klavier and she had barely tried — this was a fact that had become abundantly clear over the past few weeks. She had spent a lot of time around Deston but in her periphery she had also been watching Klavier… there was a lonely aura that accompanied him at all times but she just didn't know how to break through it. At first she had thought to speak to Deston about it but after she had overheard what she did at the prison, there had been no chance of that. Ever since then, she had remained closer than ever to Deston in order to find out what he was up to. He pretended he was interested in her (and for a while, she had almost fallen for it) and yet he'd never really asked her out on a real date - she knew he was playing with her.

And she let him.

She had even accepted his hugs, his kisses and general charm to keep him nearby and for all the repulsion she bore every time he touched her, she had thought she would at least be rewarded with some nugget of a clue bringing her one step closer to the truth behind the infamous plan.

But nothing.

She had followed him, eavesdropped on every one of his conversation she could. She had visited Tessa at the hospital again and the only thing she had learned was from a promise Tessa had extracted from Ema; "Please don't mention me to Klavier. He doesn't know I'm ill." Of course, Ema had obliged and yet she wondered why Klavier, with all his minions, resources and general knowledge, did not know Tessa was in hospital. It was further obvious from this promise, Ema thought, that the two had history and that she didn't want him to know of her illness (of which Ema also knew nothing because Tess refused to talk about it) to save him from further pain. Ema respected Tessa's thoughtfulness — despite the fact that she was clearly not getting any better, she was still worrying about someone else's feelings. Ema could understand why Klavier didn't want anyone else after having been with a woman like that.

Upon meeting Tess, Ema had thought a lot about what the relationship between her and Klavier was and given the facts it became pretty obvious. They must have been in love, broken up for whatever reason and Klavier hadn't fully recovered from it — that was why he couldn't even look at Ema. In spite of this fact, Ema couldn't bring herself to feel any resentment toward her newest friend. She had few of those and the close ones she _did_ have were males so it was nice to finally find a woman with whom she could get on with. Even if that woman was the reason why the guy she had a crush on didn't want her…

"I see him," Phoenix suddenly interrupted her thoughts and her eyes snapped back to his.

"I'm sorry — what?" Ema blinked in confusion at him but he simply nodded toward something he was looking at over her head. She spun on the spot to see someone who looked very much like Klavier… wait, it _was_ him. Ema's eyes widened. He wasn't wearing the jacket that normally adorned him and he looked… strange. Ema couldn't quite put her finger on it but he looked changed — beyond the lack of jacket. He looked more handsome than she'd ever seen him. The black shirt hugged his body tightly and she saw the (impressive) build of his chest.

But it was more than that. He was smiling as he sauntered up to her and, for the first time in weeks, it looked…genuine. For the first time in what felt like forever, his hands weren't clenched into fists. No, one was swinging carelessly by his side while the other was hitched in his belt again and when he stopped before her, she saw the twinkle in his eye she hadn't even really noticed had been absent until just now.

"Fräulein Detective," he said with a small smile as he looked down at her. "Am I late?"

Ema was speechless. She hadn't seen this side of him since before the trial and she had _never_ seem him less than perfect - his hair had always been immaculately styled, he was always dressed to show off and... Well, he was always presentable. Now however he looked ruffled as if he'd just got out of bed...

Ema scowled. _So that's where he's been. The good for nothing —_

"Fraulein?" Klavier smiled at her bending down to look into her face. This movement, of course, annoyed her even more.

"What?" she said bad temperedly. "Yes you are late you fop."

He chuckled and his eyes twinkled mischievously. "How late?"

"Oh shut up," Ema said stepping away from him and closer to Phoenix. It was then that Klavier looked at him and his expression cooled considerably.

"Herr Wright," he said inclining his head.

"Klavier," Phoenix smiled at him. "How are you?"

"Rocking," Klavier said shortly. Ema's eyes narrowed as she studied the look upon his face. There was something deeply unsettling about Klavier wearing an expression of such intense dislike especially for a man Ema held in the highest esteem. She wanted to grab him and shake him and scream to him that the man he hated was no criminal, that he was framed and that he was looking out for Klavier and, as such, did not deserve this disgust. For a split second of meanness, Ema want to run to Deston and tell him she wanted in on whatever plan he had for Klavier…

"Oh!"

Both men broke their staring competition to look at Ema whose hand had flown to her mouth as if she had discovered the answer to a very befuddling question that had been dancing right in front of her face all along. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of that before! It was so simple and so brilliant! And it would be so easy to execute because of her —

"Fräulein?" Klavier said quizzically and she frowned at him, annoyed at the interruption. Before she could snap at him and resume her ingenious plan-making, however, someone else interrupted her.

"Mr Wright!" Deston exclaimed as he walked into the dimly lit room they were all standing in. Against the gloominess of the décor, he looked brighter than ever in his yellow suit. "I was just thinking of calling you. I'm glad you're here."

"Mr Cavatin," Phoenix said with a smile. "How are you?"

"As good as can be at a crime scene, Mr Wright," he said shrugging. He glanced at Klavier. "You look like shit, K. But I'm glad you finally decided to join us."

To Ema's surprise, Klavier laughed and playfully punched the other Gavinner. She saw Deston's eyes widen too and, judging from the lack of a reciprocal response, he'd obviously noticed the change in Klavier as well. This reassured Ema - at least she wasn't imagining things.

"…Why were you looking for me, Mr Cavatin?" Phoenix broke the somewhat shocked silence. Klavier's amused expression heightened as Ema and Deston both almost jumped at the sound of Phoenix's voice. Deston was the first to recover.

"Actually, someone else is looking for you. I just offered my help," Deston smiled and, despite her dislike for him, Ema had to admire him for his immediate composure.

"Who might that be?" Phoenix tilted his head back, curious.

"Detective Gumshoe." Deston's smile broadened.

"Gumshoe?" Phoenix echoed and the surprise was evident in his voice. The sound was alien to Ema — she'd been under the impression that nothing surprised him anymore. "Why would he be looking for me here? And I thought he was on paternity leave?"

"He is," Deston nodded and then he laughed. "As for why he was looking for you here... well, his argument was 'wherever there's something wrong, is where Mr Wright is, pal!" Deston's Gumshoe impression was so shockingly uncanny that they all started laughing uproariously.

"But he knows I'm not longer an attorney!" Phoenix chuckled.

"When I reminded him of that, he said," (here Deston's shoulders rose and his face morphed into an indignant/angry expression) "Yeah, so what! He doesn't need a badge to go looking for trouble, pal! Trouble always finds him!"

Ema giggled and for a moment she forgot all her worries about Klavier's mental state of mind, her pity for Phoenix's current state and the fact that the newest friend she'd made was actually in cahoots with a man who'd tried to frame a 14 year old child for a murder _he_ had committed. For a moment, she felt carefree enough to loosen her usually tight hold on the strap of her bag, to find reprieve from the desire to pull out her stress-killing Snackoos and just be herself. It had been a long time since she'd been that way. Her years away from her sister, in a new country and studying something as time consuming as Forensic Sciences had made her permanently uptight. She rarely had a moment to herself in which she could just unwind, think of the good things in life and indulge herself. To top off an already hectic past, she'd jumped into Criminal Affairs as a detective and therefore had further stress to cope with. So it was nice when, at times like these, she could just forget everything. Unfortunately, the moment was just that — a moment. Instantly, reality grabbed her around the ankles to pull her unceremoniously back down to Earth where trust was a commodity too precious to give to anyone.

" — a chance the baby is injured." Deston was saying.

"We can prosecute him for transferred malice then," Klavier said and Ema frowned as she focused on the conversation in an attempt to understand what they were discussing. "As well as murder, attempted murder and GBH. Put him away for a long time."

"Ema," Deston said turning to her and her eyes snapped to his. "You can go home now. I think we're about done here and you look shattered." He leaned in and kissed her cheek and it took all her will power to refrain from recoiling. "I'll see you soon."

"Come Fräulein," Klavier chipped in. "I'll take you home."

"You do that, K." Deston agreed as he and Mr Wright headed off towards one of the doors. "Make sure you take care of her."

"Achtung!" Klavier frowned at Deston as though he'd found his request offensive. "Of course I will."

Then she found herself in the room alone with Klavier whose eyes were twinkling once again. Feeling apprehensive as to what that look could mean, she turned to scurry out of the room only to find him hot on her heels as she descended the claustrophobic staircase of the building.

"I'm fine, I can make my own way home." Ema was anxious to be alone so that she could collect her thoughts and fine-tune the plan that she had thought of.

"_Nein_ Fräulein," Klavier said good-naturedly as he followed her casually. "What sort of a man would I be if I let you walk home at night unprotected and unaccompanied?"

"I'm a detective," Ema insisted pushing the door open and stepping out onto the darkened street. "I carry a gun. I think I can take care of myself."

"Ja, but why take the risk when there is no need?" Klavier was by her side, his eyes fixed on her while she looked at everything _but_ him. "Come, my hog is just down th — "

"Uh uh!" Ema rounded on him. "No way, José! I'm not getting on any bike!" She wasn't scared of bikes. It was the thought of the proximity riding with him would ensure that motivated this rejection. She blushed as he studied her, hoping he wouldn't catch on to why she was refusing. To her surprise, he nodded.

"We will walk then."

"I sai — "

"Fräulein," Klavier interrupted holding up a hand. "Let's not spend any more time arguing when we both how what the result will be, ja?" Ema glared at him before spinning on her heel and marching off down the road with Klavier chuckling behind her. For the first 10 blissful minutes, Ema was gifted with silence and she almost fooled herself into imagining he wasn't there. Alas, 10 minutes proved to be too long a time for the prosecutor.

"Fräulein, do you know that the coat makes you look…" he trailed off and much to her annoyance Ema found herself wanting to know the rest of that sentence. She didn't say anything however and took a hard right straight into People Park where she walked swiftly and silently across the grass. "…sexy."

She stumbled. "_What?_"

Klavier stopped just short of bumping into her. Where most men would have ran for their lives (for her expression was fearsome to behold), he smiled and repeated himself. With a German accent.

"_Sexy. Attraktiv_."

Ema stared at him, her mouth wide open. Maybe her and Deston had misunderstood the change in Klavier — he wasn't better. He was _worse_! The few marbles he'd managed to hold on to had finally rolled away from him.

"Have you taken any illegal substances?" she demanded. "Because if you have, I'll arrest you right now."

"Maybe just one," Klavier murmured as he stepped closer and Ema stepped back. "It is not illegal but… it probably should be." He took another step toward her and she took another one back. "It is to be blamed for loss of sanity, impulsive behaviour…" He moved closer still and in her bid to get as far away from him as she could, Ema found her back pressed against something hard and bumpy as his body moved in to make contact with hers. One hand rested gently on her waist while the other moved to brush the hair out of her wide eyes. "Even murder." He leaned in and she felt his cool breath fan her face. His lips were close enough to touch her skin and through the thin fabric of his shirt, she could feel the hardness of his chest as it brushed against her. She shivered. "Do you know what it is, Fräulein?"

"Er… t-tri-trinitrotoluene?" she stammered. _What? What the hell are you saying? Push him away and RUN!_

Klavier chuckled. "_Nein_," his fingers ran down her cheek and tapped her lips gently. "When you partake, you will know the answer." He stared at her, his blue eyes scanning her face as if searching for something and then he sighed and stepped away from her. Ema stayed where she was for several seconds simply staring at him, unable to understand what had just happened. Why couldn't he be normal! She was afraid to move just in case he decided to attack her again in some strange way. The guy needed help. How could he stand there and stare at her like that! What was wrong with him!

"Let's go, Fräulein." He smiled and sauntered past her. She remained still for another nanosecond before her eyes narrowed and she finally gathered the courage to move from her spot. She caught up to him in no time but she didn't stop — instead she sped right past him in her haste to get to the safety of her home where no lunatics could corner her and offer her unwanted kisses or riddles. He tried speaking to her a few times but she outright ignored him, pretending he wasn't there and hoping he would take the hint, lose interest and _get lost_!

When she reached her apartment building, a deep sigh of relief escaped her. She was practically running now and just as she made to open her door and escape inside (still pretending she was not being stalked), a hand yanked on her wrist and she found herself pulled backward into a pair of familiar arms. She looked up at him to find the smile gone from his face. His eyes were two intense orbs of icy fire and her breath caught in her throat. Silently, he placed a kiss on her forehead and whispered something she didn't catch before letting her go.

"_Gute nacht, meine liebe_." Confusion overtook her as he turned away and walked off. The air grew chilly suddenly and the night seemed to envelop him, his hair riding the wind and in that instant, Ema knew something had definitely changed. Her mind was blank as she watched him walk back the way they'd come and when she saw the way nature's element whipped his clothes around him, while unable to affect his stride, he looked stronger than ever before. His retreating back was proud and straight, his walk sure and steady and his head was held high. He didn't look back once and he didn't stop.

It wasn't until he was out of sight that Ema regained some piece of her mind; enough for her to race inside, up the stairs and fumble with the keys as she attempted to unlock her door. She practically jumped over the threshold and slammed the door behind her leaning against it as she took deep lungfuls of air, holding a hand to her chest in a bid to stop her pounding heart from breaking through the barrier.

It was a long time before Ema felt calm enough to move without collapsing. She didn't understand what she was feeling — was it fear? Elation? Or something else? She didn't care right now. She would work through it when she was strong enough to deal with it. So she crawled into bed and hid under her covers hoping to find some peace… but every time she tried, there was an image that haunted her — the sight of Klavier walking away from her. He had looked so formidable, like a soldier marching onto the battlefield with the intent to survive. There was one thought on Ema's mind as she was dressed by the garments of sleep… What war had she just gotten herself into?


	11. Into The Mind Of A Killer

These questions that no honest man can answer,

Do murder my defenceless soul like a cancer;

For me, love and trust is a battered conception,

That's been slashed by these fragments of deception.

.'.

"You should probably look in the Records Room," Raoul advised a very irritated Klavier who was bent over the papers strewn across his desk as he tried to make sense of the reports left for him. He was supposed to be preparing for the State vs Gerard case but his mind was a scattered mess. He was thinking about Ema, Kristoph, Daryan and his mysterious saviour who had disappeared on him and then his mind was on Ema again. With all these thoughts and consequent emotions plaguing him, he was finding it difficult to focus on an already difficult case.

"I hate transferred malice charges," Klavier groaned. "And the doctor isn't making this any easier."

"How is the good doctor doing that?" Raoul asked idly.

"He keeps telling me there is no way to know if there has been some damage to the child." Klavier shook his head. "I know it to be a lie, of course. I have had dealings with this man before. He is a lazy _Dummkopf_."

"So, threaten to have him arrested for obstruction of justice or something," Raoul said dismissively while examining his fingernails. Klavier had gotten used to the man's narcissism but at times like these when he was already annoyed, Raoul's behaviour only served to aggravate him further. "Anyway, you're already prosecutin' the dude for murder, why you killin' yourself over this?"

"Because I want to put him away for as long as possible!" Klavier snapped. "He is a madman and I wan — "

His rant was interrupted by a knock on the door and Raoul sighed in relief. He wasn't in the mood for a dose of the Klavier 'goodness'. The prosecutor stopped mid-sentence to call for the knocker to enter. And she did. Klavier's entire being began to tingle as Ema opened the door slightly, peeking in, before freezing upon seeing Raoul in the room. Klavier managed, with some difficulty, to take his mind off her luscious features long enough to notice her reaction to the Gavinners bassist. He watched (with some envy) her eyes skim over him (wishing she would do the same to him), from the immaculately styled red hair falling over one green eye and cascading down his back to the jewellery in his ears, fingers and wrapped around his wrists. The critical look in her gaze as she saw the scarf falling across the tight, black blazer was nothing compared to the way her eyes widened when her examination extended to his lower half. His legs were resting on one of Klavier's speakers (much to his chagrin) and the look on her face when she saw the black leather pants he wore had Klavier smirking. He had been wanting to see her reaction to Raoul up close for some time and he was not disappointed. Klavier only wished he could hear her exact thoughts.

"Fräulein," he said, his lips twitching. "How might I help you?"

Her eyes snapped to him and stronger men than him would not have been able to prevent the wide smile that spread across his lips. When her gaze met his, a blush crept over the divine skin of her cheeks.

"I'll come back later," she said and quickly tried to shut the door but Klavier was having none of that.

"Fräulein!" he called out and when the door remained slightly ajar and he got no response, disappointment flooded through him. Then, the door re-opened and Ema walked into the office with apparent determination and the smile was back on his face.

"Yes?"

"Why did you come, Fräulein detective?" he asked, his twinkling eyes fixed on her.

Ema scowled. "_You_ told me you wanted to see me."

"I did?" he frowned, trying to remember when he had said that and what he'd have wanted.

"Yes," Ema's scowl deepened. "This morning. You walked by my desk and said you wanted to see me."

And then it dawned on him. Yes, he remembered that. How could he have forgotten? He had indeed wanted to see her and on a whim as he passed her on his way to his office he'd said as much, figuring he'd find an excuse for calling her to him. Then Raoul had paid him an unexpected visit and he'd been busy with him ever since so he had forgotten his need to find an appropriate excuse for summoning her.

"_Zur Hölle damit!_" he muttered under his breath. Why had she not come before? Or rather, why had Raoul come now, today?

"He's havin' one of them moments," Raoul said and Klavier's attention transferred to him. He'd forgotten his friend was still here. He was annoyed to find the red-head looking at him with a raised eyebrow. _Double damn it_, he thought. In a bid to find the time to think of a reason for why he called her to his office, Klavier gestured toward Raoul absent-mindedly and said,

"Raoul Adagio. Raoul, this is Fräulein Ema Skye."

"You've probably heard of me, betty," Raoul drawled and Klavier's head snapped up, eyes widening as Ema's narrowed.

"My _name_," Ema hissed, glaring daggers at Raoul, "Is Ema."

Klavier's fist covered his mouth and he coughed discreetly to mask the laughter bursting forth from his lips. He was sure that Raoul had now become the number 1 fop in Ema's book. The unfazed look on his face seemed to aggravate Ema beyond words because she turned her back to him and glared at Klavier.

"What. Did. You. Call. Me. For?" she ground out.

The precious few minutes he'd had as Raoul annoyed her should have provided him with a reason to give to her but because of the enjoyment of the spectacle before him, he'd still not thought of anything. However, years of prosecuting had taught him to find a way to remain calm and improvise. He glanced down at the reports on his desk before looking back up at her.

"I need an update on the condition of Fräulein Caz," he said smoothly. He was prepared for the glower that she threw his way.

"I did that yesterday."

"I know," he gave her a friendly smile. "I wish for an update today also."

"Can't you send someone else?" she complained. "I have so much paperwo — "

"I do not trust anyone to do the job like you," he winked. Then, as if his body had a life of its own, as if it had forgotten that Raoul was still sat not two feet away and would get a kick out of the slightest mishap in this situation, he stood up and moved around his desk slowly advancing on her. Her eyes were wide again and he decided that he liked this expression on her. It allowed him to see her features in their entirety without being distorted by some frown or scowl. He felt a sudden sense of déjà vue as she took a step back for every step he took forward. "Please," he said quietly, staring into her emerald depths. "I would… appreciate it."

She gulped visibly and nodded before turning around without a word and fled. Klavier stared at the door (which she had left wide open) for a few minutes after she disappeared, breathing in the citrus scent she had left behind. He longed to follow after her, to trace her steps every second of the day. He wanted to make her look at him with those eyes, he wanted her to smile at him with those lips, to touch him with those hands… He sighed. He knew he couldn't. Harassment and stalking was banned in all states. So he turned around and headed back to his desk where he fell into his chair. He cleared his throat and looked at his documents again — he had just remembered Raoul was still watching him and given his nature, if Klavier showed the slightest sign of embarrassment, the man would be all over him.

"That's one breezy woman," Raoul said when he realised Klavier was not likely to show any weakness. "She looks better than in those tabloid shots with Des."

Klavier frowned. He didn't like to be reminded of her relationship status nor did he like the idea of Raoul's attention turned to Ema. On the other hand, Ema's opinion of Raoul was clearly not too great so he had nothing to fear. The competition, as far as he was aware, was only Deston. And he was more than enough; Klavier could not find it in him to think of Deston as competition without some measure of guilt. After all, Deston was his friend and he was a good one at that too. He'd always been there for Klavier when he was down. The thought had crossed Klavier's mind that he should not interfere with the relationship — Ema clearly wanted to be with Deston. But then he remembered what he had been told — _all is fair in love and war_. Deston had not asked Klavier if he felt anything for Ema and by doing so, had left the path open to war.

"Yo!" Raoul's irritated voice cut into his thoughts and he looked at him. "What planet you on, dude?"

"Sorry," Klavier muttered shuffling papers around. "I am just confused as to how to approach this case if the _Doktor_ will not cooperate."

Raoul sighed and the sound was irritated. "Didn't I tell ya to go to the records room?" He stood up and readjusted his scarf around his neck. "So glad we got ta spend some quality time together." He flicked his earring. "_Arrivederci._"

"_Ja_," Klavier muttered absent-mindedly. "Rock… Hey!" he said suddenly and Raoul stopped at the door. "Where is Deston?"

The bassist shrugged and the words he shot over his shoulder as he exited left Klavier scowling; "Last I checked, he wasn't my boyfriend, dude."

Klavier threw down his pen and leaned back in his chair. His mind was whirring again. He wondered where Deston was now — ever since he and Ema became an item, Klavier had spent a lot of time thinking about what Deston was doing because wherever Deston was, Ema could be found too. At first, Klavier had thought it was just Deston doing the following around but recently, Klavier had seen Ema do the same. It irritated him to no end but what could he do about it really? He tried to look at it positively; if he knew where Deston was he would know where she was and so he had more opportunities to try and seduce Ema and win her over. As he had the other night…

As was often the case when he thought of her, a smile tugged at his lips when his mind's eye zeroed in on the memory. He could still recall with perfect clarity, the warmth of her body as he had trapped her between the tree and himself. And when he had grabbed her arm, his fingers had brushed against the skin of her wrist and the electric current that rushed through him at the contact would have immobilised him had it not been for the fact that he had been hell-bent on enveloping her with his arms. The look of shock that had passed over her face had only served to enhance already luscious features. It had taken all his power not to ravish her lips with his; he knew that would have scared her off not to mention she probably wouldn't have been too impressed if he betrayed his friend. Kissing her forehead wasn't the best testament to his loyalty either but he hoped that she would somehow overlook it. In the meantime, he had to find a way to keep himself busy, to somehow refrain from doing something that would ruin his plan. Aside from that, he had to find something to prevent less pleasant thoughts from entering his mind… like Daryan and Kristoph.

Ignoring Kristoph's shameful incarceration had become a little easier with time but Daryan's betrayal had brought it all screaming back and Klavier had found himself thinking about his brother more and more. There was one universal question under which all the other questions festered; _why_? Why had they done it? Sometimes, for a split second of craziness or longing or anger (he didn't know which), he had considered going to see his brother and ask him why. He imagined himself insisting that Kristoph tell the truth about his crime and his reason for it. His daydream always ended the same way — with another patronisingly calm refusal and Klavier knew that his imagination was probably a rather accurate foreshadowing of the events that would transpire. He had no hope that Kristoph would be swayed by anything his baby brother would say to him. So, eventually, he decided against this course of action, often putting him off from even trying with Daryan. He figured Daryan would say something equally irritating and Klavier didn't need further emotional torment just as he had been saved from the depression that had been eating him alive.

As always, his thoughts turned to the woman that had saved his life. He had thought about her almost as much as Ema ever since that night at the beach. He had tried finding her except that no name, no location and nothing besides a face wasn't enough to track one woman down out of millions. He had spent countless nights racking his brain for a way to find the nameless figure. He wanted to find her and thank her… and ask how she had disappeared within the space of 10 minutes. He had to reassure himself that she had been real and not something his mind had conjured up. The idea of her being a figment of his imagination was… excruciating. It would destroy the very foundations of his strength. He_needed_ to find her.

This was probably not the best time, however. He had a case to prepare for and thinking about her was not conducive to its preparation. He had to keep his mental state of mind clear of these thoughts. He sighed as he pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked down at his papers again. Raoul was probably right — he should take a look in the Records room. He got up and made his way down several corridors, through the Criminal Affairs office and entered the deserted room of endless cabinets. As he examined them, he had no idea where he should start to look for transferred malice cases — they were all organised by their official case names. He wondered if he could get one of his underlings to look through them for him but the incompetence that had grown in the department of late made it highly unlikely he would have something useful on his desk in time for the trial. With a sigh frustration, Klavier pulled open a random cabinet and the sight of all the files made him groan. He was almost ready to close it and go back to his office and let the charge drop thinking he would prosecute for the other three charges when he saw one name; **_M. Edgeworth_**.

Klavier hadn't met the man but he'd heard enough about him to know that the man had prosecuted more than his share of cases in his day and the wide range of manila folders were proof of that. Surely he had prosecuted a transferred malice case? But he couldn't stand around here and look through them, there were simply too many, so instead he pulled out as many as his large hands could allow him and gathered them in his arms thinking he was probably going to spend the rest of the day and probably all night in his office. He made to shut the cabinet when he saw another name that caught his eye. Slowly, he settled the pile in his arms on an empty shelf nearby and pulled on the tag marked **_K. Gavin_**. He'd never thought to look into the cases his brother had taken on and he knew they were aplenty too, before and after Klavier's move to the States. Now, however, interest nudged him to sift quickly through the folders until eventually he pulled them all out of the cabinet too. How had it never occurred to him to do this before? What if there was an answer to all of Klavier's questions resting in between these papers? He threw it on top of the other files and, kicking the drawer close, retraced his steps to his office ignoring the looks he got from everyone on the way. It wasn't unusual for a prosecutor to carry a pile or two out of that room but he doubted anyone had seen such a large collection of cases in one pair of arms. Nevertheless, nobody questioned him or stopped him.

Upon re-entering his office, he kicked his door behind him which would hopefully send a signal to anyone who tried disturbing him that he wanted to be left alone. He let the documents rest on his desk and seated himself while snatching a folder off the top and flipping it open. He focused on the case name (DF-3) and the pictures of the victims and the accused. Klavier didn't recognise them but he proceeded to skim through the details. It was a murder case and seemed, to Klavier, a case like any other. There was no link to Kristoph in it except that he was the defense attorney and therefore, there was no reason for Klavier to pay attention to it. He had long forgotten that he had a defendant to prosecute tomorrow and as he reached for the next file through the inordinately unorganised stack of cases, his mind was only on finding an answer to that all consuming question. Yet after 45 minutes of browsing through them with increasing impatience to the point where he was doing little more than glancing at the pictures and the names, Klavier was ready to punch someone, preferably his brother. It was when he threw the folder in his hands towards the heap of cases that something happened that made him believe in everything from the spiritual to divine intervention. The thrown folder collided with the file on top, knocking it off and causing it to land in front of him, the sheets of paper half spilling out of their confines. Klavier's irritated and tired eyes widened with disbelief and shock when they fixed on the pictures attached to the top of the sheet and his sharp intake of breath disturbed the silence. With tingling fingers, he pulled it towards him and his gaze drank in the features of the faces as his mind attempted to comprehend the meaning of this.

One was a picture of a man, and somewhere in the back of his mind where shock had not gripped him, Klavier thought he would be considered extremely handsome by most women. He was dark-haired, blue-eyed and worthy of any modelling agency. The other picture… was of _her_.

The woman who had saved him.

He had found her. He had found her in a _case file_. As a _murder victim_.

Klavier couldn't remove his eyes from her face — she was smiling in it and the sadness and regret was still etched there, in the lines of her face, only it was not as pronounced as when she had spoken to him. Her eyes and hair looked lighter in this photo. In fact everything about her in this picture looked significantly lighter and Klavier doubted it had anything to do with the lighting. Other than that, she looked exactly the same — her eyes encompassed the same ageless wisdom he had sensed in her and there was a sincere kindness to her smile. He settled against the back of his chair, still in shock, as he absorbed the unlikelihood of this situation. How could this possibly be a coincidence? How could he have found her in a pile of folders? And a murder victim? How could she be… dead? His mind could not grasp the idea that he might have… that he could have… that he'd met… a spirit? A ghost? A soul? He had always known there was more to life than the physical, especially given the history of the legal system and the strange cases that had passed through the courtroom and the police department's ties to spirit mediums. However, he'd never imagined he would have ever experienced such things himself, especially so unwittingly… He closed his eyes and rubbed them before taking a deep breath and he looked at her smiling face again.

_What had she done to deserve this?_

And as Klavier began to read, the shock was pushed aside by anger;

**AZ—6**

**Victim:** Gale Rainsford

**Primary Suspect:** Rafael Rainsford

**Known confederate(s):** Kade Richards & Simon Lowes

**Date of Death:** Estimated, 28th November 2023. Body found 29th November 2023 by a Mr James Teeson.

**Location of Death:** Los Angeles, CA

`.`.

**Victim Full Name:** Gale Lana Rainsford

**Age at Death:**35

**Marital Status:**Single

**Profession(s):** Legal advisor & accomplished writer

**Medical History:** No known problems

`.`.

**Suspect Full Name:** Rafael Ian Rainsford

**Age at Trial:** 45

**Marital Status:** Married

**Profession(s):** CEO of Cyrun™

**Medical History:** No known problems

`.`.

**Events leading to death:** Reported missing on 5th May 2023 by best friend and housemate, Bianca Haynes, when Ms Rainsford did not come home or answer her phone. Ms Rainsford was last seen with Messrs Richards and Rainsford who presumably led Ms Rainsford to Mr Richards' home whereupon the victim was held prisoner until her death.

**Cause of Death:**Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen.

**Motive:** Unknown

`.`.

**Outcome**  
**Suspect:** Rafael Rainsford

**Plea:** Not Guilty

**Verdict:** Guilty

**Sentence:** Death Penalty

`.`.

**Suspect:** Kade Richards

**Plea:** Not Guilty

**Verdict:** Guilty

**Sentence:** Life Imprisonment

`.`.

**Suspect:** Simon Lowes

**Plea:** Guilty

**Verdict:** Guilty

**Sentence:** 20 years imprisonment with no chance for parole

`.`.

Klavier's mind was whirring as he continued to pour over the details of the trial and the autopsy report that came with it. His jaw clenched when he read that along with the stab wounds, her body showed signs of violence and rape in the form of cuts and bruises all over her body. After this savage treatment with seemingly no motive, these animals had dumped her body on the road side to be found by whomever came across her first. And he hadn't missed the identical surnames but there was no reference to a relationship between the two in any of the documents and Klavier refused to believe it was purely coincidental. Additionally, the Lowes' guilty plea (supposedly because he felt remorse) made him sure there was more to this story than this report was telling him. He had to find out what it was. He had to discover what was going on. He had, to some extent, accepted that he had conversed with a spirit and many of her comments made more sense to him now than they had then. Still, a part of him was still reeling with the knowledge that he had been in the presence of something so… unbelievable. He had always believed in such things but never placed himself in a scenario where he might have to deal with it himself. And now that he had, Klavier found more drama than he had ever anticipated. Not only had she been supernatural, she was also a murder victim… and her murderer had been defended by his brother.

The rage that had been building inside of him exploded, and the desk splintered as his fist crashed down upon it, his ringed fingers coming into contact with the wood as a roar ripped through his throat, wrenched by his disbelief that his brother could defend such monsters. He had always known that Kristoph believed in the right to a fair trial but to defend such blatant criminals — no, _animals_ — was beyond anything Klavier could have imagined. He had never thought that his brother would have defended such brutality.

But then, a memory flashed before his darkening eyes of two blond brothers bickering over their parents separation and he wondered how he hadn't seen the signs then. How had he missed Kristoph's nature in that conversation? And suddenly, the angry look on Kristoph's face, as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the scarred hand that always made Klavier wonder how he'd received the injury, made sense to him. How could he have ignored the warning that had laced his brother's every word as he had blamed their mother for their parents separation and the ensuing events?

"Mr Gavin, sir?"

Klavier's attention was now drawn to the young woman hesitating in the doorway, looking at him apprehensively. How long had she been standing there? Had she seen him? Hadn't he shut the door for a reason! Klavier's anger must have been evident in his face because she mumbled something about disturbing him and that she would come back later.

"Wait," he said, struggling to reign in his emotions. "Please, come in, Fräulein. I am sorry, my mind was elsewhere." She paused and scanned his face as if to assess how safe it actually was to take him up on his offer. With his feelings somewhat in control, he smiled to reassure her. That seemed to do the trick as she smiled back uncertainly and took a few steps towards him. He lifted his hand to beckon her forward but hissed as pain shot through his arm. Now that he was calmer, the throbbing in his hand was more evident and he grimaced at the woman who had now frozen in her tracks. "Achtung! I fear I've done something to my hand." He smiled at her sheepishly. "I should go get this checked out. I trust that whatever your business was, it was not urgent?" She shook her head. "Very well." He stood up and moved around the table, gingerly holding his hand with the other.

"Would you like a ride, Mr Gavin, sir?" she seemed to blurt this out and then appeared to cower into herself.

"It would be most welcome, Fräulein, _danke_," he smiled at her warmly and signalled for her to follow him out which she did. "I won't be riding my hog with this arm."

And a very enthusiastic young officer whose name he never bothered to ask led an angry, shocked and confused Klavier to the hospital.

* * *

50 minutes, 3 broken fingers and a bandaged hand later, Klavier was walking past the reception desk of the 3rd floor towards the elevators when he heard one of his fans from the clamouring crowd around him whisper something that caught his attention. They were all walking away from him in resignation (his bandaged hand meant he could no longer sign autographs, which was a relief) when he heard a girl secretly whisper to her friend that she thought she'd seen Deston in the ward above. Klavier made a sharp u-turn towards the reception desk where he turned the charm dial to full.

"_Guten Morgen_," he smiled leaning on the desk as he stared into the blonde's eyes. He knew that his German accent and speech made most women weak at the knees. "I am looking for Deston Cavatin. Is he in this hospital?"

The woman, who was trembling from the shock of being on the receiving end of his charm, nodded and pointed upwards with one unsteady finger and said, without a thought, "He's upstairs, Mr Gavin, in Ward 3."

Klavier flashed his best smile at her, "_Danke schön, mein liebe_." He thought, as he turned away, that judging by the look on her face she was going to die of bliss.

On his way to his destination, Klavier wondered if Ema was here. He had sent her to the hospital to ask about Caz's condition and if Deston had been here at the same time, there was no doubt she was with him now. Also considering the fact that it had been almost over two hours since he had sent her here and she hadn't, to his knowledge, returned to the office, the logical conclusion was that she was with him. He tried to ignore the green eyed monster that rose in him and he found that he was getting better at it than before. However, given the emotional rollercoaster he'd been on today, it was more difficult than usual. He told himself that it was a good thing — this meant he would have another chance to bewitch her in one way or another.

When the sign for Ward 3 came, he turned down the corridor looking left and right for any sign of his friend. Just as he was thinking he should have asked the receptionist for the door number, he saw a tall figure in a lab coat leaning against a wall next to a door. She would have blended right in considering the place was full of doctors were it not for the fact that Klavier's eyes were programmed to recognise her even among a hundred doctors with lab coats. It was the colour of her hair, the posture of her back, the hand on her waist… as Klavier approached her, he felt all his troubles disintegrate and he was feeling lighter than he had all day.

"Fräulein," he said quietly and she pushed herself away from the wall and faced him with a guilty look.

"Do you mind not sneaking up on me!" she hissed. "Why you have to — _what happened to your hand!_" She cried and her hands flew towards his bandaged one. "What did you do to it?"

Trying not to show the delight he felt at her concern, Klavier merely shrugged, "Nothing to worry about, Fräulein," he flashed her a smile. "It was an accident. It will be better in no time."

"An accident?" Ema echoed and he suddenly felt very uncomfortable at the way her eyes searched his features, as if she didn't believe him.

"I heard Deston is here. I assume then, as you are here that he's in there?" Klavier pointed at the door to he left of her, trying to change the subject.

"Ye — I mean, no!" Ema said, shaking her head vigorously. "He was here but he's gone."

Klavier's eyebrow rose as his prosecutor senses kicked in. Ema was lying to him. But why? "Who was he visiting?"

"Er, nobody. That's to say, he wasn't visiting anybody _here_, it was down there." She pointed vaguely towards the end of the corridor. "I don't know who he was visiting." Ema flushed and if Klavier hadn't been so preoccupied trying to figure out why she was lying, he would have found her irresistibly charming.

"Then what are you doing here?" Ema's mouth opened as he waited patiently for her to answer his question.

"I… I…" Ema gulped. "I was… looking for…" She looked left and right. "Um…" She looked back at him and he tilted his head, waiting silently. "OH ALRIGHT!" She exploded. "He is in there! But you can't go in! He's talking and he didn't want to be disturbed and…" She went quiet all of a sudden and turned away but not before Klavier saw the look of sadness that crossed her face. She looked upset, more upset than he had ever seen her and he didn't like it. Gently, he lifted his good hand to her arm which he used to turn her around to face him. He placed a finger under her chin and pushed upwards lightly until she was looking up at him.

"What is it, _mein liebling_?" he murmured. "Why are you so forlorn?"

"I am not forlorn," she snapped suddenly stepping away and all traces of her miserable expression were gone. "You just can't disturb him. You can talk to him when he comes out."

Klavier paused, confused by the sudden shift in her behaviour. She was the type to hide her emotions — he'd experienced that on several occasions. So, with a smile, he allowed her this sudden cover. "If I knock, I am sure he will not mind." And ignoring the protests that fell from her lips and the tug on his clothes, Klavier knocked once on the door and after a second, pushed down on the handle.

And in the seconds it took for him to open the door, step inside and absorb the scene before him, he got a glimpse into the minds of those he had fought to punish since he was 17. In that one moment, Klavier Gavin finally understood the urge to kill.


	12. Hollowed With Knives

Ema was a very busy woman but that didn't mean she would ever miss a lunch date with her sister no matter how much work she had to do or how many glimmerous fops ordered her to repeat the same task a thousand times. Especially when she so rarely saw Lana. So when _he _told her he wanted an update on 'Fräulein Caz's condition' she'd simply ignored him and come to the restaurant she was at now. She had plans with Lana and she had every intention of enjoying herself.

She hadn't seen her sister in a very long time as Lana lived in another state and so she would not have given up his time with her for anything in the world. She missed Lana when she didn't see her (even though she kept this a well-hidden fact). She didn't want to sound like a baby but the truth was she had never really outgrown her need to be close to Lana – at times she still felt like that 16 year old girl who'd longed for a close relationship with her sister. However, as opposed to before, the distance in their relationship was only in miles and that's the way she preferred it. Being with Lana while feeling shut out had been the most excruciating experience of her life. Indeed, it had affected her in a way nobody knew – she was afraid to let anyone in, afraid to open up to anybody for fear she would receive the same treatment. Not that she would easily own up to it but this was why she had not persisted in comforting Klavier – his coldness had reminded her of Lana.

She shook herself. She didn't want to be thinking about all that when she was sitting here with her sister who she hadn't seen in what felt like forever. She was grateful for whatever reason had brought Lana here.

"Ema?"

Her eyes snapped back up to her sisters who was regarding her with amusement and Ema grinned back while secretly thanking God for the smile that now graced her sisters face. It was the memory of that smile that had made it bearable for Ema to be away from Lana during her incarceration and it was that smile that made it possible for Ema to continue on while being so far away. That smile was proof that all of the locks on Lana's emotions were completely shattered – for good.

"Yeah?" Ema said casually taking a sip of the orange juice before her.

"Are you okay?" Lana asked.

"Of course," Ema said, keeping her eyes fixed on her juice as she took another sip. She didn't want Lana knowing what she was thinking – her sister already felt guilty for everything that had passed despite the fact that it was clear none of it was her fault. Ema didn't want to add to that guilt. "I'm just wondering what's taking so long to get our desserts – we only got ice cream."

Lana chuckled. "I didn't think you could get anymore impatient, Ema. Its only been a few minutes."

"Anyway, how's Jason?" Ema said, changing the subject hastily.

"We're not together anymore," Lana sighed and Ema mentally kicked herself for not asking sooner. Lana must have been upset all this time. "I'm okay," Lana added quickly, catching the expression on Ema's face. "It was a mutual decision."

"But why?" Ema asked surprised. She'd only met him a handful of times but she had thought he was great. "You two seemed so close!" Lana seemed to hesitate for a moment and Ema's senses tingled. Since when did her cooler-than-ice, previous Chief Prosecutor, hesitate? Ema's eyes narrowed. "Is there someone else?" She would kill Jason if he'd ditched Lana for another woman.

"Yes," Lana said, sighing again as she wrapped her fingers around her own glass of juice.

_That's it, _Ema thought as her fingers inched towards the gun she kept on her person at all times. _I'm going to shoot him where the –_

"Ema?" Lana's voice broke through her thoughts for the second time and she focused on her sister's expression which looked somewhat alarmed.

"Who is she?" Ema practically growled.

"She?" Lana seemed startled. "Ema, what are you – ? Oh." Then, to Ema's astonishment, Lana giggled. "I meant me. But it's sweet of you to get angry on my behalf."

"Oh. You like someone else?" Lana nodded and Ema relaxed before suddenly getting excited again. "Well, who is it?" She was instantly curious and this curiosity heightened when Lana suddenly blushed. "Whoaaa! You're blushing!"

"Ema!" Lana protested and Ema laughed while demanding, once more, to know the name of her new interest. "Alright, alright!" Lana conceded. "It's…" She seemed to take a deep breath. "It's Miles. Miles Edgeworth." Here she paused and stared anxiously into Ema's dumbfounded face as if waiting for some sort of a negative reaction. She didn't have to wait long – Ema let out an uncharacteristic shriek of joy and ran around the table to hug her sister.

"Lana that's great news! Are you together?" When Lana gave a (slightly surprised) nod, Ema hugged her again. "I'm so happy for you! Mr Edgeworth is a great man!" She retreated back to her chair but leant over the table to grasp one of Lana's hands. "How did it happen!"

"He was visiting my workplace one day – apparently, a friend of his works there – and we bumped into each other. We went out for a coffee and it… just… kind of grew from there." Lana smiled at Ema's jubilant expression. "Honestly, I thought you'd be upset."

It was Ema's turned to be surprised. "Why on earth would I be upset? My sister and my favourite prosecutor! That's the best news I've heard in like forever!"

Lana laughed lightly. "I'm glad you approve." She paused. "There's something else."

Ema scrutinised her sister's uncomfortable face and she knew. There were a few things that made Lana's face tense like it was now and she knew all of them. "He's asked you to marry him!"

"Yes," Lana said, clearing her throat.

"OH MY GOD!" Ema practically leapt across the table to hug her sister this time. "You're getting married!" She grabbed her sister's hands to look at the engagement ring but was confused when she found them ring-less.

"I haven't given him an answer yet," Lana said.

"Why not!" Ema cried. "You two are so perfect for each other!"

"Weren't you saying something to that effect about Jason?" Lana raised an eyebrow.

"That's different! This is Mr Edgeworth! There's nobody bett – "

"Ema," Lana cut across her with a laugh. "It's nothing like that."

"Do you love him?" Ema demanded. Lana didn't reply but Ema saw the look on her face. "Then?"

"I… wanted to talk to you first." Lana's eyes locked onto Ema's seriously. "I wanted to make sure you were okay with it."

"Of course I am!" Ema exclaimed. "And even if I wasn't would you really give up the man you love just because I might have a problem with it? Don't be silly, sis."

"Ema," Lana took her sisters hand in her own now and she moved forward. Ema waited for whatever Lana was about to say but her sister simply gazed at their entwined hands as she stroked Ema's skin with her thumb. The younger Skye didn't urge the other to go on, feeling she needed a moment for whatever was going trough her head, and it was a few minutes before Lana spoke again. "Ever since Mom and Dad died, it's just been me and you." Ema's smile faded at the mention of her parents. "I've… let you down, badly – no, Ema, listen." Lana insisted when Ema seemed ready to interrupt. "I've not been there for you in the past, not the way I should have even though all you had was me. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't do anything else to hurt you or upset you in any way. We're all that's left of our family. So yes, I would give up all the men in the world if it meant keeping you happy."

Ema's eyes were swimming with tears and she cast her gaze downwards to keep them hidden from Lana even though she was certain that her sister had already seen them. She squeezed Lana's hands slightly taking a deep breath and, when she spoke, her voice was trembling.

"Well, it's a good thing that I strongly approve of Mr Edgeworth then, isn't it?" Ema said and both sisters broke out in smiles at which point the ice cream arrived as if the waiter knew they both had something to celebrate. They both spent the duration of the dessert talking about how Edgeworth had proposed (Ema wasn't surprised to hear how awkward he was about it), when Lana planned on giving him her answer and the engagement party that they would inevitably throw afterwards. They ordered some more juice to drink and, of course, being females, they began discussing wedding plans – venue, dress, food.

"Oh drat," Lana said patting her pockets and looking guiltily up at Ema who noticed how much Lana's vocabulary and accent had changed. She now understood that it was Edgeworth's influence. "I think I've left my money at the apartment."

"Not to worry," Ema said relishing the last spoonful of her ice cream before digging around in her bag for money. She pulled out the crumpled notes and waved them in front of Lana. "See? It'll be my treat."

"Hmmm," Lana sounded as she plucked what looked like a note from in between Ema's fingers and peered at it. She looked back up at Lana and raised an eyebrow. "This certainly isn't a note."

"What is it?" Ema asked taking it back and looking at it. As soon as her eyes fell upon the scribbled HS-9, she groaned. "Not again."

"Mind telling me why you're carrying that around in your bag?" Lana asked.

"I'm not!" Ema said. "I don't even know what it is. I keep finding these everywhere. I thought it was a memo or something at first but obviously memos don't find their way into your bag by accident."

"You're saying someone is leaving you these?" Lana frowned taking the note out of Lana's hands once more. "Why would someone leave you a case number?"

"A case number?"

"Of course," Lana said. "You've probably heard of the case too. It was a pretty big one too. Involved your favourite defense attorney."

"Mr Wright?" Ema's eyes widened.

"Yes, it was a very sensational case. I'm surprised you still don't know which one it is. While most cases are unrecognisable by their official case names, this one is an exception."

"But why?" Ema asked, very curious now. "What case is it?" She ran a mental scan of all the cases she'd read pertaining to Mr Wright.

"HS-9 is the official name for the State vs Isis of Hazakura Temple case." Lana explained.

"With Mr Wright's ex-girlfriend, her sister…?"

"And Mia's sister and Mia's boyfriend, Mr Armando." Lana added and sighed. "Yes, it was a very complicated case and mostly heartbreaking. Spirits, feuding families, murder and revenge. All of it caused by one woman."

Ema nodded slowly. "Yes, Dahlia Thorne wasn't it?"

"Hawthorne," Lana corrected. "Yes, like I said it was an extremely complicated and controversial case. A lot of people got hurt. I didn't think there could be a case as bad as SL-9 but I was proven wrong." She shook her head. "I remember when Dahlia poisoned Diego. Mia was a heartbroken."

"You know him?" Ema asked, startled.

"I met him a few times when he was with Mia. I doubt you could have found a couple more devoted to one another." She stopped here as if she was paying her respects to them. "I never saw Mia as devastated as she was the day I told her I had nothing to prosecute that Hawthorne bitch with." Lana's eyes flashed and Ema gulped; she rarely saw her sister this angry.

"Why did she do all that? Dahlia I mean."

"Lord knows Ema. She was clearly unhinged. According to Miles, Iris claimed it was due to lack of love."

Ema looked at the note again. "But what I want to know is why I'm finding these notes left right and centre?"

Lana looked at Ema for a long moment. "Do you know what happened to Diego after his trial?" Ema shook her head. "He was imprisoned – for a mere 3 months. Yes," Lana nodded upon seeing Ema's surprised expression. "You see, after the trial, the press had a field day. Although this case was the State vs Iris Hawthorne, it quickly became known as the Diego Armando case. If you mentioned HS-9 to anyone now, they would instantly think of Diego – nobody else."

"Why?" Ema couldn't help but interrupt. She was usually a very good listener but now… Something impatient was bubbling inside her. Maybe it was because she had never read much on the prosecutor. Or maybe it was the fact that she was getting all these memos.

"Well, because he was a man driven by grief. His love for Mia and his proclamation of it in court was unlike anything else that had happened in the history of the judicial system. His love for Mia, his coma, waking up to find her gone, his bitterness towards Mr Wright…" (Ema's lips thinned) "Oh, Ema, don't be angry at Diego. I don't think you would take well to waking up and finding your lover murdered." Ema suddenly had a flash of herself weeping at a funeral… Klavier's funeral.

And her heart froze.

She imagined having to go to work knowing he would not be there to tease at her with that twinkle in his eyes and a horror rose within her. The smell of him, the feel of him, the – the – the…glimmerous-ness of him! Gone…? No, Ema could not contemplate it without feeling as though something had gripped her innards and yanked them out violently.

"You're right," Ema murmured.

"Many said it was cruel to punish a man after all that he had suffered." Lana shook her head. "They said all he needed was some help – not a prison cell. There were several articles, shows and even one or two protests about it. People outside the prison, the courthouse… It was quite ridiculous." She stopped to take a sip of her juice. "After so much debate and so many protests, I think the authorities were glad to let him go."

"What – they let him go?" Ema yelped.

"He's not a danger to anyone," Lana said. "They did let him go – under a few conditions like probation and counselling. I believe he's living with Mia's younger sister who, I hear, is a very good friend of your Mr Wright." She paused as if to allow Ema time to adjust to this information. "You see, after his release, his love for Mia became legendary. The press had started digging into their past and what they discovered made them crazy."

"What do you mean?" Ema said quickly.

"Oh you know," Lana waved a hand. "Statements from those who knew Mia and Diego while they were together. Pictures, diaries, e-mails, that sort of thing. In any case, Diego became something of a tragic hero – I do believe they called him the 21st century Romeo." Lana's mouth turned up into a smile. "He really didn't like that but he did say that it gave him opportunity to advertise coffee blend number 158 – said he might start his own coffee business."

"That's all really sweet and everything but what does this have to do with _me?_" Ema said somewhat impatiently. "I've never met him and that case was over 7 years ago…"

"So impatient," Lana said with a sigh. "I was getting to that. Anyway, like I said, he became the '21st century Romeo' and therefore… somewhat of a role model."

"You mean people have to kill to be a perfect lover now?" Ema asked disbelievingly.

"Ema," Lana said now giving her sister a stern look. "I wish you'd stop being so judgemental."

"Sorry," Ema mumbled suddenly feeling abashed.

"If you met him you'd know what it did to him. Now, back to the matter at hand; Diego and Mia's love for one another became such an inspiration for people. It spawned all sorts of things – books, shows etc. On the precinct however, HS-9 became a declaration that many employees would use."

"A declaration?" Ema frowned.

Lana nodded. "I don't know how it started but if someone wanted to declare his or her feelings to someone, they left them a small note with HS-9 written on it. It was mostly for people who were afraid of rejection or were awkward about emotions – like Miles."

"But that's stupid." Ema's frown deepened. "How would they know who it's from?"

"They left their names beneath the message."

"But why not just go up to the person and say I love you instead of beating aro – "

Lana groaned. "Ema! It doesn't matter about the why's and what's! They did this stuff. Now you're getting these memos." Ema shrugged and took a large sip of her drink – right before spitting it back out all over the table. She spluttered and her hands danced around trying to find paper. Lana magically produced some and threw it at her sister with a shake of her head. "Honestly, Ema."

"You're saying someone's leaving me a coded love note?" Ema's eyes were wide.

"Several in fact. I suppose whoever it is didn't take into account that you may not have heard of the case or the meaning behind a HS-9 memo." Lana looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you have any idea who it might be?"

Ema was still too shocked, having learnt what she just had. What was the meaning of all this! Well, she knew the meaning but… someone in love with _her?_ Who could it be? She barely talked to anyone at the precinct besides snapping orders or taking orders and she knew everyone thought she was far too grouchy to be approachable. So who the hell thought he knew her well enough to be in love with her? Ema stared down at the now somewhat soggy paper with those three characters and wished there was a name accompanying them.

And yet, suddenly, there crossed her mind a thought so unbelievable, so ridiculous that had it not been for a certain memory, she would have kicked herself for thinking it. Unbidden and unwanted, it floated before her mind's eye – twinkling blue eyes, a pearly smile and the scent of spicy cologne.

Ever since Klavier's physical attack (she preferred this word as it helped her mind to better cope with it) in People Park that night, she had done all she could not to think about it. Any time there was a danger of it coming to haunt her, she would simply turn her mind to another task. But in the dark of the night and the comfort of her bed, she was helpless – that memory would not leave her be. She thought she could almost feel him next to her, breathing on her neck, caressing her…

Ugh. She was doing it again. He was Klavier Gavin – rock star and prosecutor extraordinaire – and he was wanted by everyone. She had seen him flash that grin at his fans and whisper things in their ears. He was obviously just doing the same to her. She remembered the last time she'd allowed herself to believe anything ridiculous and almost kissed him – then spent the next few weeks (or was it days?) tortured by the whole ordeal. She wasn't going to be that stupid again.

"Ema?" Lana's voice cut through her thoughts. "Are you alright?" The younger Skye nodded. "Do you have any guesses on your secret admirer?"

"Ugh," Ema voiced disgustedly. "No I don't."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm a detective aren't I?" Ema said beckoning a waiter for the bill. "I'll find who it is."

"How do you plan on doing that?" Lana said with a smile.

"Easy. I'll have a handwriting analysis done and check for fingerprints." Ema flashed a smile at her sister. "I should have done it long before. I've got a stack of them lying around."

"And what are you going to do once you discover the culprit?"

"Make him eat them."

* * *

Ema was sick to death of Dr Plaid and unfortunately for her she had to deal with him more often than she liked. He always pretended he knew everything about the patients condition but never seemed to have an answer other than 'the patient is healing slowly', 'a diagnosis at this point is impossible' or 'the patient is in need of rest'. She had received these comments just 5 minutes before when she'd arrived at the hospital to ask about Caz's condition. Not willing to go to prison on a charge of murder for this man, she had simply turned around and walked away. She had decided, before even meeting the doctor, that she would pay Tessa a visit. So, it was a few minutes later that she was knocking at the door before slowly opening it. She was surprised to find Deston already there, sitting with Tessa. However, her surprise was soon replaced by a gut-wrenching shock when she saw the woman on the bed.

"What…?" Ema breathed.

Beeps of machines echoed in Ema's ears and her wide eyes reflected the many wires inserted into Tessa's arms and hands and a mask covered her mouth. Her eyes were closed and were it not for the fact that the dead don't need a heart monitoring machine, Ema would have thought Tessa was no longer living. Her skin was deathly pale and she seemed to be barely breathing.

Deston had turned around in his chair and he stood up now. Ema tore her gaze away from her friend to focus on him; his face was pinched with distress as he moved towards her and took her hands in his. He stared at her for a long moment.

"Tessa's condition got worse last night. She…" He took a deep breath. "She almost didn't make it."

Ema inhaled sharply. For a moment she wanted to ask what exactly was wrong with her friend but she knew Tessa didn't want her knowing and really at this moment in time she didn't care about the details. All she wanted to do was talk to Tessa. She stepped closer to Tessa's bed, her hands slipping out of Deston's and stared down at her friend silently. Her blond hair usually bright somehow seemed duller and her skin... Ema had never understood the phrase 'her face looked ashen' until just now. She reached out to touch her friends hand and found it cold and clammy. Tessa stirred and her eyes fluttered open.

"I'm so sorry," Ema said softly. "I didn't mean to wake you."

She removed the mask from her face. "Is ok," Tessa murmured managing a smile. She raised a hand to rub her eyes before glancing at Deston. She smiled again. "Hey Des,"

"Hey gorgeous," Deston said coming to stand beside Ema. "How're you feeling?"

"'M good." She sounded far from but Ema admired her a lot for her strength. "I'm glad you're both here. I wanted to talk to you… separately." She glanced at Deston. "Des, would you… mind giving me and Ema a minute?"

"Yeah, sure," he murmured and he was gone in a flash, closing the door behind him. Ema frowned at Tessa wondering what it was that her friend might want to say to her.

"Ema…" Tessa smiled at her. "Please sit down, you must be tired." Ema marvelled at her thoughtfulness despite being in the state she was but silently obeyed, pulling the chair closer to the bed. "I've known you a little over a month but I know enough about you to say that you are a good woman. I'm… not getting any better."

"Tessa…"

"It's alright." Tessa smiled. "I'm not. We all know it. I consider you a very good friend and I'd hate to die before…" she took a deep breath, "…saying what I've wanted to say for a long time." Ema waited patiently, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I sense your reserve. You need to be more… confident in yourself, Ema. You can't win 'em all." Ema blinked furiously, trying to destroy the tears that blurring her vision. Tessa's hand covered Ema's where it lay on the edge of the bed. "It's okay, hon. It's okay."

"It's not okay," Ema said and her voice was shaking. "It's not fair."

"Death is a part of life that allows us to distinguish between joy and sorrow." Tessa's fingers curled around Ema's. "'Is not the lute that soothes your spirit the very wood that was hollowed with knives*?'"

"Hmph. Sounds like stupid optimism to me," Ema grumbled, sniffing. Tessa laughed.

"Oh and Ema?" When the detective looked up, Tessa was smiling at her benignly. "Look after Klavier."

Despite the situation, Ema did a double take. What was that supposed to mean? Did Tessa think Ema liked him? That was ridiculous! She didn't like him at all! She just felt sorry for him!

"Tess, what's – "

"It's okay, Ema." Tessa winked at her. "Could you please send Deston in? I need a word with him too."

Ema nodded, somewhat dazed and walked out looking for Deston. He was leaning against the wall and one look from her was all he needed. He nodded and walked in the way she'd exited, closing the door behind him. She took his spot by the wall and the bag that always remained so steadily attached to her slid a little further down her drooping shoulder.

She couldn't believe what was happening. Tessa had been fine the last time she'd seen her and now, all of a sudden, she was… she had… Ema shook her head. Why did bad things happen to good people? Why was she dying when so many out there who deserved to die lived a happy, healthy life? Ema's eyes closed against the wetness that seemed to be gathering there and yet the darkness of her closed eyes offered her no respite. She had precious few friends and Tessa was the only woman she had managed to befriend. She was a wonderful, considerate person and she was dying. Tessa was dying and there was nothing Ema could do about it.

She turned to lean against her shoulder and rested her head against the wall. She wanted nothing more than to simply slide down where she was and curl up into a ball. True, she had only known Tess for a few weeks but it felt like a lifetime of friendship. The days they had spent together talking about everything and anything had almost taken away the loneliness Ema felt at her sisters absence and that had meant the world to her.

And what had she meant by 'take care of Klavier'? To think that Tessa believed Ema felt something for him when she obviously didn't was bad enough but even worse when one considered that he was her ex and something told Ema that Tess still harboured some feelings towards him.

"Fräulein."

Ema jumped 12 feet in the air before she spun around to see the man in question standing before her with a smile. "Do you mind not sneaking up on me!" She hissed her displeasure. "Why you have to – _what happened to your hand_?" Her eyes landed on the thick cast around his right hand and her heart almost stopped. Against her will, her hands reached out to it and her fingers fluttered on the cast as if her fingers thought they could heal him. "What did you do to it?" She demanded looking up at him.

To her annoyance, he shrugged. "Nothing to worry about," he flashed her a smile. "It was an accident. It will be better in no time."

"An accident?" Ema repeated but her eyes were locked on his and while there was a twinkle illuminating the already bright eyes, she thought she saw something stir behind the light… a shadow that, she was sure, was not to be dismissed.

"I heard Deston is here. I assume, then, as you are here that he's in there?" Klavier pointed at the door behind her and all thoughts of concern flew right out of the window. Every alarm bell that resided in her body went off and her panic button broke, scattering all her coherent thoughts. He couldn't be allowed in there. Tessa had specifically told her to hide her condition from Klavier and Ema thought she knew why – how would he take this on top of everything else? What's more, Deston was in there with Tessa and she was certain that, given Daryan's betrayal, Klavier would assume the worst. She didn't know if Klavier still possessed feelings for Tess but she wasn't going to take that chance and find out this way.

"Ye – I mean, no!" She was going to physically kick herself as soon as she was able. "He was here but he's gone." _He's really going to believe that, Ema._

Ema's panic rose, if possible, to an even higher degree when her boss started questioning her, clearly not the least bit fooled by her lies and in a moment of madness she gave in before tuning away ashamed. She couldn't help Tessa, she couldn't keep Klavier from getting hurt – she was a failure. Now everything had gone wrong and Klavier was suspicious and it was all her fault. Unexpectedly, his finger reached under her chin and he forced her to look at him and, for a moment, his sympathetic eyes offered her such comfort she wanted to collapse in his arms and cry.

"What is it, _mein liebling_? Why are you so forlorn?"

"I am not forlorn," she said, snapping out of it suddenly. She couldn't show weakness now. She'd already screwed up enough – she had to keep him from entering that room. She had to stop him. However, this too proved too much for her as a minute later, despite the fact that she grabbed him and pulled him, he pushed down on the handle and stepped inside the room completely ignoring her protests.

And he froze.

Ema stumbled in beside him and with one look at Deston holding Tessa's hand, leaning over her, and her stomach dropped. The two looked at Ema and Klavier and she gulped before turning her eyes up at her boss slowly and when she saw the look on his face, she wished she'd kept her eyes down. He reminded her of that night in the office after Daryan's trial – a dark aura suddenly surrounded him and his thunderous expression made her take a deep breath.

"K," Deston said straightening up slowly, his eyes fixed on his friend. He glanced fleetingly at Tessa.

"_Was machen Sie?_" Klavier hissed menacingly and Ema took a step away from him.

"I'm not doing anything, K. Relax." Deston glanced at Tessa again. "Look it's not what – "

"Klavier," Tessa said quietly looking at him but he raised his good hand and threw her a cold look.

"If you do not mind, Fräulein, I was talking to Deston." He turned his icy gaze back to Deston. "You are not content with one woman?"

"That's not what it – "

"Then _what _is it?" Klavier asked taking a step forward.

"Klavier, please," Tessa spoke up again.

"Fräulein, I suggest you remain quiet," Klavier ordered. Ema frowned, her anger suddenly kicking in. She wouldn't have let him speak to Tessa like that on a good day but today of all days!

"How can you talk to her like that?" Ema snapped.

Klavier turned his eyes on her and he looked surprised. "You are defending her?"

"Can't you see she's ill?" she demanded.

He snorted. "And yet she is still able to conduct an illicit affair with another woman's boyfriend."

Ema frowned. "What?"

"K, you've got it backwards," Deston jumped in. "There's nothing between me and Tessa. We were only talking."

Klavier didn't respond except to glare at Deston who met his friends gaze calmly. Ema looked between the two and when it didn't look like the staring contest was about to break anytime soon, she spoke up.

"You don't need to worry," she said. "There's nothing between them."

Ema's words seemed to break the spell and, with it, Klavier's temper. He looked at her for a long while and then suddenly the warmth seemed to seep back into his features. He nodded and turned to Tessa saying, "I am sorry."

"It's alright," she smiled.

Ema hadn't been expecting the pang she felt in her heart at the way the two seemed to lock gaze as if they were communicating some private message. She wasn't experienced enough to know whether it was jealousy, anger or something else and really, at this moment in time, she didn't care. All she wanted was for Tessa and Klavier to resolve whatever issues they had and, if that's where their happiness lay, get together. So, taking a deep breath, and with all the courage she could muster, she finally spoke;

"You two should make up now."

Three pairs of eyes seemed to fix on her and she was surprised to see Deston shaking his head warningly at her, Tessa biting her lip and Klavier frowning.

"What?" the prosecutor asked.

"You two can make up now," Ema said gesturing towards Tessa.

"Ema…" Tessa started but Ema was having none of it. Tessa deserved happiness.

"You've been annoyed at each other for whatever reason but it's time to kiss and make up," Ema said fixing Klavier with a stern glare.

"Fräulein," Klavier said, his frown deepening and shaking his head slightly as if he were confused. "I have never met this lady before."

Ema blinked. "You… what?" When Klavier shook his head in bewilderment again, she looked at Deston whose fingers were rubbing tightly shut eyes and she suddenly understood. Of course. She'd been lied to.

Again.

"Excuse me. I have to go," she mumbled before spinning on the spot and marching out of the door. She'd managed to round the corner when she heard footsteps behind her and Deston's voice calling her name. She ignored him, furious and embarrassed and, annoyingly enough, somewhat relieved.

"_Ema!_" Deston hissed and she stopped. His hand curled around her arm and he turned her around. His expression was worried and apologetic but she knew enough by now to realise that it was fake. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry we didn't tell you the – "

"I want in on your plan," she interrupted abruptly and he was visibly taken aback. _Good_, she thought. She'd been planning this for a while and now was the perfect time to do it.

"I – what?" Deston said and she was pleased to see that he was somewhat flustered. "Ema, what are you talking about?"

"I know you and Daryan are planning something behind Klavier's back. I heard you. I want in."

Deston's shock registered so plainly on his face that Ema would have laughed were it not for the fact that this was a potentially dangerous situation.

"Ema, what – "

"I hate Klavier Gavin," Ema said simply. Deston's eyes seemed to narrow and he pulled her into narrow, deserted hallway. "Don't try to deny it, Deston. I overheard you and Daryan in the prison."

"And what exactly did you hear?" Deston whispered harshly. Ema smiled inwardly; _so the real Deston reveals himself at last._

"Enough," she said shortly. "Think it over. I'm sure you could use someone else for your plan."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Deston said, glaring at her. "You – "

"Is Tessa in on it?" Ema interrupted.

"You are being ludicrous," Deston said coldly. "There is nothing going on. I suggest you go home and rest. You're clearly being overworked."

"We both know that's an obvious attempt at dismissing what I've heard. I've seen enough," Ema said casually pulling her arm out of his grasp. "Have a talk with your buddy, Daryan. Let me know what you decide." Without saying or hearing another word Ema spun on her heel and walked away, only letting out a deep breath when she was sure he could not hear her do so.

She had done it. She had finally set in motion the plan that had come to her on the night of the Landon murder and she was almost certain that she had rattled Deston. She knew she could get seriously hurt – if he was fraternising with a murderer then he must be capable of it too. She hoped that she had unnerved him enough that Deston would want to keep her nearby or even use her in which case she could find out more.

Or they could simply have her killed.

Just as the last thought had her shivering, a hand once again clamped around her arm and yanked on her. As she was collided with a hard body, Ema thought she had failed in her plan and that she was going to die a disgraced, good-for-nothing detective. However, her hand hit something hard and her attacker hissed in pain. She looked up at the man who had pulled her into another narrow hallway hidden from sight and was surprised to find Klavier grimacing at her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded but he pushed her against the wall hard and she closed her eyes against the discomfort the impact caused her. "Do you mind? You're hurti – "

She was cut off when he suddenly pressed against her as he had the other night but this time there was no tenderness in his movement, almost verging on suffocation. She could feel the entire length of him pushing into every nook and cranny of her body as if he were trying to meld himself with her.

"I am hurting you?" Klavier whispered and she was shaken to hear the coldness was back in his voice tenfold. She wanted to answer him, wanted to tell him to move away but there was nothing coming out of her mouth. Her lips opened and closed but all that passed through them was air. His face was so close to hers that his breath fanned her face and she could smell the mint on it. His hand travelled up her arm and rested on her neck while his lips moved closer to hers, his face lowering to her level. _Oh my God, _Ema thought frantically. _He's going to kiss me. _Yet at the last minute, just as their mouths were about to meet, his face abruptly moved to the side and his lips were suddenly on her neck, just brushing against the sensitive skin beneath her jaw and moving across to the hollow at her throat. She closed her eyes as his soft lips left trails of fire sending little shivers of delight rippling through her and a sigh escaped her. He rose a little and brushed his mouth against hers sending a lightening bolt right down the centre of her body. Unthinkingly, she parted her lips to allow him in, to let him taste her. She didn't care about the consequences of tomorrow, she just wanted to feel him, wanted him to take her….

And he pulled back.

Her eyes snapped open as suddenly she felt nothing but the freedom of emptiness around her and saw him backing away with a cold, cruel smile. She blinked momentarily confused. She had never seen Klavier exhibit such a smile in all the time she'd known him and yet there he was, smirking at her.

"_Auf wiedersehen, Fräulein_," he sneered as he ran his eyes down her body and with a wink he turned around and walked away. Ema didn't move until he was gone and when she did it was with a blank mind. Nothing of her journey registered and she didn't realise what she was doing or where she was going until she found herself locking her apartment door behind her. Slowly, she dropped her bag to the floor and moved to her bedroom. With a hazy mind, she unstrapped her shoes, drew her curtains and finally collapsed on her bed, curling into a ball like she'd been wanting to since going to the hospital. She pulled the blanket tightly around her and closed her eyes. She saw Tessa's ill face, Deston's harsh glare and Klavier's cold sneer. She had known that Klavier would probably never love her but she had hoped that he had felt something for her. After today's revelations, she had almost believed that there was a possibility for something else. And yet, he had just played with her emotions. Why had he done that? Why had he humiliated her? And finally, from beneath closed eyes, tears escaped, journeying down her cheeks to seep into the pillow she used to muffle her soft cries. Yes, she had known there was a very slim, almost non-existent chance that he felt something for her.

It had just never crossed her mind that that something… would be hate.

* * *

*On Joy and Sorrow – Khalil Gibran. AMAZING poem.

Was machen Sie – what are you doing?


	13. Rest In Reason

Whatever my tomorrow maybe,

Love, let it always be for your sake.

Whatever path lies in wait for me,

Let it always be with this precious ache.

.'.

_He was a man possessed; there was no stopping the liquid fire running through his veins, fuelled by the music of their breathing, the feel of her hands running down his damp back. __He was whispering and kissing her everywhere he could reach, her lips, her neck, her shoulders… He pushed himself up, letting his weight fall on the arms on either side of her as he gazed down into her alluring eyes. Her mouth was swollen from his ministrations, her cheeks flushed with the heat of their closeness…_

"_Klavier?" she said breathlessly and a shiver ran through him. Only she could induce such an intense reaction in him with just one word. In response, he let his mouth drop to hers in a gentle, tender kiss that soon grew into a passionate embrace and he was moving against her, massaging her body with his. He wanted to devour her, possess her, make it so that she could never again dream of giving herself to another. He wanted to brand her as his without marking her, he wanted to claim her without caging her…The strength of his desire was scaring him and he stopped again pushing himself up onto his arms to maintain some control over his actions. He didn't want to hurt her… She was so fragile, so beautiful… So gentle…_

"_Klavier?" she whispered again and he groaned as another shock coursed through him settling in that deepest most primal part of him. She lifted herself up and the feel of her cool lips running down his jaw broke the rapidly fraying rope of control and he knew he was going to die. He was going to burn alive and he was going to take her with him but he didn't care; he took her mouth again as his body moved forward to –_

Klavier sat up in bed with a gasp, drenched in sweat and the ghost of her fingers still running down his arms. He took several deep breaths to calm himself and when he found it near impossible to relax, he threw his damp bed sheets aside and swung his legs over the side of his bed, his hands covering his face. This was not the first time he'd dreamt of her – he did so every night but the passionate aftermath of his dreams never lessened upon each awakening. He always woke up feeling as though his heart would explode out of the sheer intensity of emotion and his body… well the ache of his body was common enough now. He had become somewhat accustomed to that. But tonight… tonight was different for one reason and one reason only.

He knew he shouldn't have done it.

He cringed, remembering the way he'd pushed her against the wall, assaulted her and then smirked at her like a cocky bastard as he walked away. He'd done it intentionally. He'd done it to hurt her, to embarrass her, to humiliate her. He didn't blame her for hating him. Right now he hated himself more than he ever had. But when he'd heard her tell Deston that she hated him, it had felt as though everything inside of him had melted; like ice by fire, leaving him empty, hollow and numb. And then the anger had set in, made worse by the sight of Deston pulling her out of sight for whatever reason although one hardly needed to think twice about what that reason was. Deston probably thought nothing of what she had said but Klavier's entire world had been tipped upside down.

He knew he loved her – madly. But it wasn't until the moment he felt his own reaction to her words that he realised just how damn much. He'd have given anything, all his fans, his careers, his friends and his money just to have her feel a modicum of love for him. He would prefer that the world hated him but that she cared even the slightest for him.

Yet the damned, insurmountable truth was she hated him.

It wasn't just that she hated him that hurt him so damn much. It was the fact that he'd lay his life down for her, that she had so much power over him and in spite of that she hated him. What had he ever done to her? He'd treated her with respect, given her allowances at work where he would to no one else. When she spoke back to him, insulted him and generally disrespected him, he did nothing but smile at her and shower her with kindness. He had been willing to beat the living daylights out of his friend when he thought Deston was cheating on Ema and she still hated him? What could he possibly have done to provoke such an unforgiving emotion? He just didn't understand. It was yet another question to which he longed the answer.

He stood up and walked to the window where he looked out at the sky, his heart heavy and his mind conflicted. He felt guilty for treating her the way he had and yet there was a part of him, an angry, hurt side of him, that thought she probably didn't even care about his actions except that it gave her another reason to hate him. His fists clenched at this thought and he squeezed his eyes shut against the helplessness that washed over him. She had been the only one who took away his pain and his burdens and now that release was gone too. Every time he saw her he was be reminded of her certain, harsh words.

He wondered if he was naïve. He had spent the last decade declaring his hope, fighting against the forces of evil, strongly believing that good would prevail over evil and yet here he stood – his brother in prison for committing a murder without a motive; his best friend in prison for smuggling and murder because of his greed; the woman he loved in the arms of another man, detesting him… Was he the fool fighting on a battlefield devoid of comrades and hope? Was the battle already lost?

_One shows what he is made of under difficult conditions_

And then it was as though a hand grabbed him and yanked him out of the darkness into which he was been descending. No, he wasn't going to despair. He was not going to allow circumstances make a weakling out of him. His mother hadn't carried him around in her womb for 9 months, borne every pain possible during and after his birth just so that her son could grow up to become a coward. She hadn't endured the trials and tribulations of being a single mother, fought tooth and nail to protect him from all afflictions just so that Klavier could willingly walk into the jaws of death. No, his life wasn't his to throw away – she had given him that and he would honour her gift no matter what happened. He would face all the troubles of life for himself, for those who believed in him but ultimately, he would do it for her. Wherever she was, he would make her smile in contentment because her son was a man.

And Klavier knew he owed this newfound strength to one woman. It was this one woman who had reminded him of his mother's wisdom. He walked over to the desk in his room and he dropped his gaze to the file that lay open there – her weary but gentle face smiled up at him and he felt a pang in his heart; _did she have any idea what kind of end she was approaching when she took this photo? _Probably not. Whoever imagined they would suffer such a death?

Klavier's fists clenched again as he attempted to ignore the unwanted details that ran through his mind again and he wondered what had happened to her during the 6 months she'd been held prisoner. His jaw clenched painfully as all manner of thoughts passed through his mind. He had only spoken to her once and at the time he'd known nothing about her but he felt close to her – of course, she had saved his life and renewed his hope. However, the fact that her murderer had been defended by his brother had made it all the more personal. He wondered why she had helped him. He didn't know how much the dead knew about the living but her knowledge of his situation had made it pretty clear that she was not uninformed. She must have known whose brother he was and despite it all, she had saved his life. Klavier could only put it down to sheer kindness.

He would find out the truth behind this case. He had no idea where his investigation was going but once he began to gather answers, he suspected he would know what to do. Unable to sleep and with his mind whirring, Klavier sat down at his desk to read over the file again and with each new detail he went over, a path revealed itself to him. He had no idea where it was going but at least he had enough to take the first step.

* * *

Klavier knew a few prosecutors who felt triumph as they walked through the halls of the prison, smug in the knowledge that they had put so many of these criminals behind bars. For him, however, these halls and their occupants were nothing but a reminder of the hatred and evil that still permeated the foundations of society. Here, he felt the hopelessness and danger and despair the most. Here, he felt more burdened than ever because he was reminded that no matter how hard he fought, this evil could not be eradicated – and there was nothing to be smug about in that.

He had arrived before visiting hours started – he wanted to conduct his interview in private with no chance of being overheard by anyone. There were two men he wanted to speak with and he'd had no idea which one he wanted to talk to first until he spoke to the warden who'd made the decision easier. So, he was being led to the cell of Simon Lowes because, apparently, the man never slept. Klavier had no idea what he was walking towards except that the man had been an accomplice in Gale Rainsford's murder and then felt remorse, pleading guilty. There was that all-consuming, ever-present question on Klavier's mind…

Why?

"In here," the warden directed gruffly, pointing to a hall that led to a solitary cell at the end.

"Why is Herr Lowes in solitary confinement?" Klavier asked, frowning, as he followed the stout man.

"He asked to be put in SC," the warden replied. Klavier waited for more information but got none. The question he was about to pose died on his lips as he approached the bars of the cell and slowly the man he'd been thinking about since waking up finally came into view.

A dark-skinned man was lying on his bed, his hands entwined behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Klavier's eyes were fixed intently on him, silently willing him to sit up and look at him so that he could look into the eyes of the man who had helped murder Gale. His impatience was not satisfied by the sound of the warden's keys turning the lock; if Klavier could have, he would have ripped the bars off the cell and stormed in. In any case, the warden muttered something to the young man and stepped aside to let him through, telling him to call for him when he was done. Klavier barely noticed the sound of the door locking behind him and the warden walking away – he was transfixed by the man on the bed. Simon Lowes had not moved at all since Klavier had set eyes on him and he wondered if the criminal was in a trance. He decided to wait until the other acknowledged him and he sat down at the chair that was at the opposite wall. It seemed, he didn't have to wait long; in one fluid movement, Lowes had sat up and met Klavier's gaze head on. The prosecutor noticed now that he was a Latino – something he hadn't imagined, considering the name – and his eyes were as dark as his hair. He was an extremely handsome man by any standards and Klavier was taken aback; he didn't know what he'd been expecting but it certainly hadn't been this.

"Why are you here?" His voice was smooth and cultured. He didn't sound suspicious… he sounded dead.

Klavier paused before answering him and when he did, it was with a steady gaze and a firm voice that made it clear he was not one to suffer liars; he would hear the truth and nothing less. "Three years ago, a woman named Gale Lana Rainsford was found stabbed to death with various signs of previous violence and rape. In the case that followed, three suspects were apprehended – Rafael Rainsford, Kade Richards and you, Simon Lowes."

During Klavier's speech, Lowes' face had paled and he was now staring at the prosecutor, distressed and somewhat angry.

"That case is over," he said harshly. "Rafael has been sentenced to death and Kade and me…" he gestured around him as if the sentence hardly needed finishing.

"Ja, sentences were given," Klavier nodded, never taking his eyes off the other. "But the case is not over."

"Why are you here?" Lowes' asked again, this time more aggressively. "Gale was nothing to you. I would have known if she had any famous friends."

Klavier studied the expression on the other man's face, trying to understand the anger radiating from him. There was something sad in his eyes when he spoke and Klavier thought he heard the subtle hints of guilt vibrating in his voice.

"You are Mr Rainsford's friend are you not?" Klavier asked. He was surprised when Lowes' chuckled darkly.

"Rafael doesn't have friends," he said as he lay back down on his bed, resuming his position. "He has cronies."

"I believe Mr Rainsford is to be executed next month," Klavier said. "Does this distress you?"

"I don't care what happens to him," the other replied, his voice now dull. "Whether he's imprisoned or dead, all that matters is he's away from people."

Klavier frowned. He wasn't getting the right reaction from this man. He would have to try something else. "If he were simply imprisoned, he could be released sometime in the future."

The older man tensed and sat up, glaring at Klavier. "That's impossible."

"I assure you, it is quite possible," Klavier pushed, realising this was the way forward. "Laws change all the time. He can make an appeal sometime down the line and it could be accepted no matter what his sentence now may be. It is not unheard of." Klavier hesitated glancing around the cell before taking a risk and lying – after all, how would Lowes know if he was lying or not? He had chosen solitary confinement; he obviously didn't talk to anyone. "I hear Mr Rainsford's wife is planning on appealing. She wants him released."

He didn't see it coming; Lowes' was on his feet within the blink of an eye, uttering a single word; "No." He strode across to Klavier who rose to his feet slowly, bracing himself for an attack. Black eyes bore into blue with ferocity as he murmured the words Klavier wanted to hear; "If you let that happen, I'll kill you myself."

Klavier smiled inwardly, triumph raging through him. "Herr Lowes. It is not my intention to ever let that animal out. I want him to be executed next month – a sentiment we seem to share." He waited for Lowes' to deny it but when he didn't Klavier smile revealed itself on his face. "Please, sit. I wish to ask you a few questions." Lowes stared at Klavier for a moment longer before nodding as if demonstrating that he trusted the prosecutor somewhat. He sat back down upon his bed and stared at the ground between his feet.

"Why do you have an interest in this case?" Lowes asked quietly. Klavier knew this question would be posed to him and he had decided that he would stick as close to the truth as possible.

"_Mein bruder _was the representative for the defense," Klavier said. "I happened across this case the other night."

"So?" Lowes asked. Klavier realised he was not stupid and therefore, he could not get away with such a vague comment.

"I met Gale once," he said ambiguously. "We did not speak for long but she left quite an impression on me."

Simon Lowes regarded him carefully as if scanning him for any tell tale signs of lying. Klavier met his gaze firmly; after all, he wasn't lying at all. He wasn't even bending the truth. There was no need for him to be nervous – and he wasn't.

"Gale left an impression on anyone she met," Lowes muttered a moment later. "Everyone loved her." Klavier noticed the gentle way he pronounced her name. It was familiar; it touched some part him as though he knew what the gentleness in his tone meant, almost as if he'd used it himself… Klavier's eyes widened.

It was exactly how he uttered Ema's name.

Could it be that this man loved Gale? But then, why had he helped in her murder? Klavier needed to know – he _had _to find out.

"She left enough of an impression on me for me to make sure I never allow her murderers out into the world again," Klavier said with a sharp look at Lowes as if to make it clear that that included him.

"You don't need to give me that look, boy," he chuckled. "I would gladly hang right now."

"Why is that?" Klavier asked. "I read that you pleaded guilty to the murder apparently out of remorse. Why?" He waited for the other man to answer him but he received nothing. Lowes had even turned his gaze downwards so Klavier couldn't read the answer in his eyes. He decided to hazard a guess. "I wondered if you loved her at first but that was before I realised that you cannot kill someone you love," he ended coldly. At these words, Lowes' head snapped up and he was up on his feet again, glaring at Klavier.

"If I hadn't promised her never to harm anyone again, I would have knocked your teeth down your throat," he snarled. "Don't you dare question my love for her."

Klavier stood up again, very slowly. "Does murder not class as harming someone?" he demanded. "What does the promise matter when you murdered the one you made it to?"

Lowes was nose to nose with Klavier within seconds, hissing in his face, "_I didn't murder her! I would have died before I laid a finger on her!"_

"Then why are you here?" Klavier asked. "Why did you plead guilty to murder if you never _'laid a finger on her'_?"

Lowes seemed to deflate instantly. The fire of rage subsided leaving his black eyes dull once more as he stepped away. He looked distressed again and Klavier wondered what was causing this sudden change in his mood. He watched as Lowes backed away and sunk on his bed once more. His hand came up to cover his face and he was silent.

"I am not doing this for fun, Herr Lowes," Klavier said after a minute. "I am doing this for her."

"It won't bring her back," Lowes mumbled.

"No, but she deserves more than – " Klavier gestured wildly. " – than this! Nobody knows what happened to her during her time with you. It is almost as if she is forgotten. I want to know the truth. I want to name and shame the people responsible, before it is too late, and I want to know why. If you really feel remorse then help me."

Simon Lowes rose his gaze to meet Klavier's and the two stared at each other, one pair of eyes pleading and the other scrutinising. After what felt like forever, Lowes nodded; "I'll tell you," he said. "But I don't know everything."

"What do you mean?" Klavier frowned. "You were an accomplice."

"An accomplice who was in love with her from the beginning," he said heavily. "Rafael kept a close eye on me at all times and he would even prevent me from seeing her towards the end."

"If you loved her from the beginning, why did you agree to help in the kidnapping and murder?" Klavier asked.

"I had a history with her. I thought I hated her, that I didn't care for her. I fooled myself into believing it was for revenge that I agreed but really…" he shook his head and ran a hand through his short cropped hair. "Really, I just wanted to see her again. I didn't know Rafael was planning on hurting her. I only thought he only wanted to kidnap her."

"Why did he want to kidnap her in the first place? What is the relation between the two?"

"You noticed the surnames huh?" Klavier nodded. "There's no relation between the two but the surname isn't a happy coincidence."

"Elaborate, _bitte_," Klavier requested but to his surprise, the other shook his head disgustedly.

"I won't talk about that. Ask the devil himself. He'll be only too happy to tell you," Lowes sneered. Klavier could tell by the look on his face that pushing Lowes now would probably do more harm than good.

"Very well. You had no idea he was planning on murdering her?" Lowes shook his head. He chose his next question carefully. "When did you find out?"

The elder man's eyes dropped to the ground again. "The day they killed her," he said and the intense grief in his voice was not lost on the prosecutor.

"What?" Klavier frowned. "You did not know…?"

"That's right. I told you, Rafael never trusted me. When I realised what he was doing, I tried to stop him but he made sure I couldn't interfere." He smiled bitterly at Klavier's shocked expression. "He tied me up and made me watch as he tortured her, raped her and eventually killed her." His gaze dropped again. "I couldn't save her. I am no less guilty than Kade or Rafael himself."

Klavier hadn't realised how tightly he was clenching his fists until the blood seeped out from in between his fingers. He glanced down at this hands blankly and the crimson moisture barely registered – all he was thinking was, how much blood did she lose? How long was she subjected to pain and humiliation? How quickly had she died? Had she known she would be dying in all those months that she was held against her will?

"I deserve to rot in here," Lowes muttered as he lay back down and stared up at the ceiling.

"Your guilt is noble," Klavier said coldly. "But as you said, that will not bring her back."

He stood up and walked to the door, calling for the warden. He understood now that Lowes had had no hand in the actual deed but he was still an accomplice to the kidnapping. Had he not quietly acceded to the kidnapping, she might have been alive today. Klavier would not easily forget that. As the warden approached the cell, Klavier turned to the man on the bed.

"One last question," he said, his voice still icy. "What did you do to her during those 6 months?"

"Nothing. She was treated like a guest."

Klavier stared at him disbelievingly. "Herr Lowes… You cannot expect me to believe that."

"Why not?" Lowes said looking at him from his position on the bed. "I told you, everyone loved her. When Rafael was not there, all the men treated her like a queen."

"Men?" Klavier said, ignoring the warden who was jiggling with his keys.

"There were others," he said nonchalantly. "She was watched all the time. Rafael had better things to do than hang around her 24/7."

"Then why kidnap her?" Klavier demanded, the volume of his voice rising.

"Ask Rafael."

* * *

Klavier's plan had been to speak to Rafael Rainsford next. However, the fury that flooded him was carrying him in another direction entirely. For once in his life, Klavier Gavin was not in control. He didn't care about the right way to do something – all he wanted was an answer. So, it was with quick steps and a thunderous frown that he found himself moving towards his brother's cell, not so far from Lowes'. The officer standing guard at the door unlocked it quickly without question and Klavier spared him one glance that was just enough to send the young man stumbling out of earshot.

He was sat in his regal chair, reading a book which he glanced up from to see Klavier walk in. With all the elegance and grace that was synonymous with the name Kristoph Gavin, his brother placed a thin string between the pages of his book before closing it and setting it aside. He brought his hands up, pressing his fingertips together and regarded his brother with a small smile.

"Klavier," Kristoph said pleasantly. "It's been too long. I trust you are well?"

Somehow, Klavier's anger abated and he almost felt foolish and childish for storming over here in such a rage. He wanted to turn around and walk back out but there was one thing stopping him – and she was dead.

"I am not well, _bruder,_" he said quietly.

"How distressing," Kristoph said with a tiny frown. "I hope I can help to alleviate this unwanted tension."

"_Ich auch_." Klavier took a few steps forward but maintained a distance between himself and Kristoph. He looked straight into his brothers eyes and it took all his willpower not to look away. "You were the defense for the State vs Rainsford case, ja?"

Kristoph tilted his head to the side. "I defended many clients, Klavier. It is how I came to develop my own firm. You know this."

Klavier had a sneaking suspicion his brother was intentionally being ignorant. Something told him Kristoph knew exactly which case Klavier was talking about. "Rafael Rainsford. He murdered a woman named Gale Rainsford. She was found stabbed to death."

Kristoph paused and then nodded. "Ah, yes, I know which case you are referring to now. It was not a successful defense," he sighed.

"Because he was guilty," Klavier said through gritted teeth.

Kristoph nodded. "Yes." He cocked his head again. "Is this going somewhere Klavier?"

"How could you defend that monster?" Klavier hissed, losing control. "How could you defend him knowing what he's done?"

Kristoph looked mildly surprised. "I am not so arrogant as to believe that I am experienced or wise enough to know the truth in every instance. I believed him to be innocent. I fight for each and every client that comes to me with – "

"_Erzähl mir keinen Scheiß! _It was clear as day that he was guilty!" Klavier snapped. "I have read the case! I know the details!"

Kristoph looked at his younger brother over his glasses in a sort of condescending manner as if he was waiting for the younger Gavin to finish throwing a tantrum. Klavier knew that look well and even now it made him feel childish while knowing that he was not being unreasonable in his anger.

"I am an objective officer of the law," Kristoph said, reclining in his chair leisurely. "It is not our job to pass judgement – that is for the Judge. We are tools of the law. You know as well as I, Klavier, that under the Human Rights Act, Article 6, every single individual possesses the right to a fair trial." He took off his glasses and cleaned them with a cloth he picked up off the table next to him. "I defend every client that comes my way as you prosecute every defendant that comes yours. I believe you have prosecuted some who have in fact been innocent. You are liable to make mistakes." He replaced his glasses back on his nose and smiled. "Would you crucify me for the same susceptibility?"

Klavier glared at his brother for a long moment, at a loss for words. He knew that his brother was doing what he did best – arguing the other side of the argument even if he knew it was wrong. Because that was his job – to defend everyone, even, apparently, the criminals. He also knew that Kristoph was talking down to him in an attempt to dodge the accusation but he wasn't going to allow it now.

"_Dass ich nicht lache!_" Klavier said with narrowed eyes._ "_I do not take the risk of defending and acquitting criminals, leaving them free to commit the same crime again."

"And you think that finding an innocent individual guilty of a crime he did not commit and incarcerating him for said crime is the lesser of two evils?" Kristoph said and he was regarding Klavier with amusement now. "Do you not realise that even if their hearts continues to beat, you are taking away their life? And what of those who are unjustly sentenced to death because of overwhelming evidence which may have just been an unfortunate string of coincidences?" The smile widened when Klavier did not respond, intimidated and angered beyond words. "Come, Klavier. It has been a long time since you visited me. Let us not quarrel."

Klavier clenched his fists, wishing nothing more than to punch something. He wanted to take the vase on the table and smash it, to crush the rose it held, to stamp on the framed picture and to pull down the book case at the far end of the wall. He also knew that he would never actually do any of this.

"How are you?" Kristoph asked. "The detective told me of Daryan's trial."

Klavier's head snapped up and his eyes widened in shock, his anger forgotten for that moment. He stared at Kristoph. "Ema was here?" He asked.

"Ema?" Kristoph said, tilting his head to the side again with a puzzled expression.

"Fräulein Skye," Klavier corrected, his heart pounding now. What had she been doing here? If she was visiting Kristoph could it mean she was concerned for him and….

"No," Kristoph said and the disappointment hit Klavier hard. He supposed it served him right for even thinking about his love life at a time like this. "I meant Detective Gumshoe." Klavier nodded, absent-mindedly. He was trying to gain control of his emotions again. The mention of her name had brought all these feelings of love, hurt, rejection and loneliness flooding back and he had to work hard to put the dam back in its place. Now was not the time to be dealing with this.

"Klavier," Kristoph interrupted and Klavier looked up to find the elder Gavin surveying him. He was scanning Klavier's face, analysing his expression to come to a conclusion. He had always been able to read Klavier like an open book and the younger Gavin looked away, disconcerted, not wanting his brother to know that he was riding a romantic rollercoaster. He cleared his throat.

"I have to go," Klavier said. "I have a trial to be in the day after tomorrow and I have many places to be."

Kristoph looked disappointed; "What a time-consuming occupation," he sighed. "I do miss it." He flashed a smile. "Don't wait too long until your next visit, Klavier."

He cast a glance at the picture of his pet that Kristoph kept before turning around and leaving the cell. The fact that his brother preferred a framed photo of his dog rather than his own brother was all Klavier needed to understand how little he meant. There was nothing left to say.

* * *

It was past midnight when he finally got home, his mind full of the day's events and spilling over with information. He usually worked later on the preceding days of a trial but he knew there was no use forcing himself when he would not absorb any information and might indeed just make another mistake.

He'd spent so much of the day struggling to reign in his anger and making sense of what he'd learnt from Lowes while planning his next move that he'd barely managed to get anything done. In between the workload and the stress of trying to solve the mystery of the events leading up to Gale's death, one would have thought he would have had no time to think about Ema. Unfortunately, every time he saw her she glanced at him, her expression blank so he could not tell what she was thinking (although he had a pretty good idea it was nothing good), his heart would twist in his chest and he wished he could just go up to her and apologise for being a pig. However, before he could gather the courage, she always disappeared and he was left with another dollop of anger added to an already lethal martini of emotions. Every so often, his mind wandered off into deep thought and he remembered the dream he'd had and his body would tighten in the most awful, irritating and painful way and he had no idea how to compose himself.

He groaned as he yanked off his jacket and sank into the sofa, not bothering to turn on the lights. He had to get a grip on himself! He couldn't carry on like this or he would go crazy. He had to find a way to control his emotions – there had to be a way! He was not the first man to experience unrequited love. He just had to…

The phone rang, interrupting his thought process. He grabbed his jacket and dug around in the pockets to find the cell phone which he flipped open.

"Hello?" he said, wearily.

"Mr Gavin…" a familiar voice said. "It's Phoenix Wright. I need your help."

Klavier stiffened. Why would the man be ringing him? "Yes, Herr Wright," he said curtly. "How may I help you?"

"It's Ema," Phoenix said and Klavier's stomach dropped at the worry that laced the other man's voice. _Please let her be okay._

"What is it?" Klavier demanded, already out of his apartment door and descending the stairs two at a time as all manner of thoughts rushed through his mind. "Where is she? Is she alright?" She had to be. She had to be alright because he could not envision a life without her. He could spend a hundred lifetimes with her hating him, insulting him and rejecting him – just so long he could see her glittering eyes, hear her beautiful voice and feel the gentle push of her hands on his chest. He could bear all the loathing she had to throw at him. What he couldn't do, was spend even a second on this earth without her. She was the reason his heart beat, the reason he breathed, the reason he raced to be by her side now… She was all his reasons.

"Please, come quickly," Phoenix said. "Ema's been attacked."

**

* * *

**

Ich auch – Me too.

Don't give me that shit – Erzähl mir keinen Scheiß!


	14. Veil of Determination

"Mr Wright!" Ema was frowning, rubbing her arm as she returned from the bathroom and Phoenix glanced over his shoulder at her, traces of worry wiped instantly from his face. "Did I just hear you telling Klavier what happened!" She demanded hoping against hope that she was wrong.

"Yes," Phoenix said calmly and Ema froze in her tracks.

"Why did you do that?" She said and she would have stamped her feet on the ground were it not for the fact that simply walking caused her enough pain. "Why would he want to know! What does – "

"On the contrary, he was very interested," Phoenix said stuffing his hands in his pockets and smiling at Ema. "He's on his way over."

Ema's heart nearly dropped and, for the first time in her life, she felt angry at Phoenix Wright. However, this unusual emotional toward the man dissolved into guilt just as quickly as it'd risen. She owed this man everything. She shouldn't be getting annoyed at him.

Ema wrapped her arms around herself, shivering, and Phoenix was by her side in an instant, rubbing her arms, shoving the clutter aside on the sofa and telling her to sit down. He produced a blanket from amid the various objects and draped it around her. She shivered again and squeezed her aching arm in an attempt to give it some relief.

"Ema, please let me call you a doctor," Phoenix pleaded quietly when he saw her gesture but she shook her head leaning back and closing her eyes.

"I'm not hurt, Mr Wright," she said for the umpteenth time and took a deep breath. "I just feel a little weak."

"Then let me make you some coffee or tea or – "

"I've just had the longest toilet session of my life because of the amount of tea you've made me drink," Ema said with a little laugh, looking at him. "I'm alright. Did Lana say how long she was going to be?"

"She's on her way right now," Phoenix said rubbing a hand up and down Ema's back in a comforting manner. "Edgeworth's bringing her."

"But why did you call Klavier?" Ema said pouting now. "There was no need to…"

Phoenix threw his hands up in the air and leaned back as if Ema had threatened to bite him. "Hey, it was Mr Cavatin's idea," he smiled. "Your boyfriend is very concerned about you." _Yeah, I bet he is, _Ema said, her expression turning dark. _Worried I might spill the beans. _"He said he'll catch the first plane back to LA."

Ema frowned at Phoenix. "He's not here?"

Phoenix shook his head, looking puzzled. "You didn't know?"

Ema didn't know; ever since she'd confronted him a few days ago, Deston had avoided her like the plague and she had no idea what he was up to. She had decided to give him space thinking that pushing him would do more harm than good however, she realised it would seem very odd if she revealed her lack of knowledge so she faked an expression of realisation and smiled, "Oh yeah, now I remember. I've had so much work to do it must have slipped my mind." She smiled at Phoenix again and looked away massaging her arm again. "Why did Deston ask you to ring Klavier?"

"He wants you to be protected and Klavier has the most power to arrange that right now," Phoenix said.

"Protected?"

"Ema, whoever attacked you… is still out there," he looked at her gravely and she almost gulped. "We need to keep you safe and we need to do it discreetly. Deston thinks it might have something to do with the Cadaverinis. He said you've been questioning Leo Cadaverini a lot recently?" Ema nodded. "Well, you know they're untouchable by the police. So we have to find another way to keep you safe until we figure out what to do about the situation."

_Smooth, Deston, _Ema thought looking away again. _I expect nothing less from you though._

"I'd actually like a cup of tea, please," Ema said with a shaky smile at Phoenix. He smiled at her kindly and, giving her another soft rub on the back, moved towards the kitchen. When she was certain he was out of the room, Ema sighed and hung her head.

She was an idiot. She had thought she knew what she was doing confronting Deston but she had almost been killed by, what was most likely, someone hired by her 'concerned boyfriend'. She hadn't thought that her classy rock star boyfriend (she sneered at the term – didn't one need to have some semblance of a relationship in order to call a guy that?) would have actually turned into a common thug. He'd even gone so far as to leave the state while he got somebody else to do the dirty work for him. How clichéd.

Ema closed her eyes as another shudder ripped through her. She was transported back to an hour ago when she'd entered her apartment to find that her door was unlocked. As there was no sign of someone having broken in, she had simply assumed she'd left it open. It was when she'd been berating herself for being so stupid, thanking her lucky stars that nobody had realised and just walked in that she'd heard it – the unmistakeable sound of footsteps behind her. She had reached into her handbag casually and just as she had pulled out her gun, a large, rough hand had gripped her just above the elbow. Heart racing, she had swung her arm backwards with all the force she could muster; satisfaction and relief had rushed through her when she heard a grunt and the grip on her loosened. She had bounded over the sofa to the kitchen top and just as she'd turned around to face her attacker, the lights had turned off. Ema recalled the fear she'd felt in that moment; she had always been afraid of the dark and having to battle two demons put her at a lethal disadvantage. She had glanced this way and that, trying to discern the shadows cast by the walls from the ones created by the fiend sent after her. Ema didn't know how her mind had still been functioning in that moment but she had retreated to the window where the moonlight poured in giving her some form of aid. If he approached her she would know – yet, considering the small pool of light that had bathed her, had he actually got close enough for her to see his face, it would have been too late already. Luckily for her, the intruder didn't know her kitchen the way she did. He'd stumbled over something and the sound had been just enough – she'd moved to the right just as he flew at her from the left. She had heard the unmistakable sound of a knife clattering to the ground and she had no doubt that that one stumble had saved her life. He'd fallen atop her and crushed her to the ground but he'd been rendered weapon-less. She'd struck at him with the gun, not wanting to fire it in case the struggle caused it to turn on herself and he'd hissed in pain recoiling just enough for her to get out from under him and dash across the room. Whoever he was, he'd been fast – a moment later he'd managed to grab her again and thrown her to the ground. She'd landed on her side painfully and it was only the survival instinct kicking in that had given her the strength to lift her gun and shoot at him. Ema didn't know how badly she'd wounded him and it didn't really matter to her except that it had given her the time she needed to get up and dash out of her door, down the stairs and into her car. And she had instantly driven to the only place she'd felt safe – the Wright Anything Agency.

A tremor ran through her. Throughout the drive her eyes had been practically glued to the review mirror in the fear that she was being followed and it was only when she had stumbled into Phoenix's arms, exhausted and scared, that she had finally felt somewhat safe. He'd taken care of her since, checking her for any injuries (and she had not escaped unscathed), bringing her cup upon cup of tea and ringing her sister (and others he didn't need to, apparently).

Ema snorted. How disappointed Deston must have been when he found that the woman whose death he was anticipating had escaped and was now in the hands of the people he could not infiltrate. She smirked. Yes, Deston would have a hard time getting to her now. He probably thought if he had Klavier organise the security he could somehow slip through it but she was not the type to make the same mistake twice. She was on guard now and she intended on staying that way.

"Here you are, Ema," Phoenix said, making her jump. He looked at her sympathetically as he handed her a hot steaming cup of coffee and she winced at the pain that shot through her arm when she took it from him. "I'm sorry, we're out of tea. This was all that's left." He smiled, sitting down next to her.

Ema felt a twinge of guilt. "I'm sorry for finishing all your tea, Mr Wright…"

"Nonsense," Phoenix said firmly. "It's Apollo who finishes all the tea. His Chords of Steel are hazardous to my wallet as well as my ears."

Ema choked on the coffee as she started laughing. She was amazed that despite the way every muscle in her body was aching, despite the fact that she had almost been killed, Phoenix had somehow managed to make her laugh. She looked at him and he was chuckling.

"Thank you, Mr Wright," Ema said with a smile, setting the coffee down on the table. It even hurt to hold a damn cup.

"Phoenix, Ema," he reminded her. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else but was interrupted by a frantic knocking at the door. She stood up instinctively, ignoring the soreness of her body, ready to flee and Phoenix glanced at her with a worried expression. He placed his hands on her arms gently and looked into her eyes, ignoring the incessant sound coming from the door. "It's okay, Ema. You're safe here." When she nodded, he went to answer the door but she didn't relax even when she heard the familiar voice.

"Where is she?" he demanded and she frowned at Klavier as he stepped into sight. He froze when he saw her, wrapped in a blanket, and then he'd closed the distance between them in a few strides; he was before her, his hand on her arm while the one still bound in a cast rested on her shoulder. Ema stared at him, taken aback at by his obvious concern. He was bending down to gaze into her face, the fingers of his good hand fluttering over her skin and his eyes scanning her features and she was so surprised that she didn't resist his attention. "Are you okay?" he asked almost frantically. "Are you hurt?" He rounded on Phoenix who was standing apart from them, his hands back in his pockets. "Why has she not been taken to hospital?" he demanded angrily. "Surely you did not lose your common sense with your badge?"

Ema frowned at his tone, angry at him, and tried yanking on his arm but the movement only caused her pain, eliciting a gasp from her. He spun to face her again, touching her face. "What is it? Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, taking a deep breath and touched her shoulder where it had hurt. "I'm just sore. Don't take it out on Mr Wright. I asked not to go to the hospital."

"But why?" Klavier said angrily.

"It might not be safe for her there," Phoenix said and Klavier narrowed his eyes at him. "Please sit down, Mr Gavin. I'll tell you what happened."

Klavier obliged but he wasn't ready to listen until he was sure she was alright and when they were seated, Ema tried to ignore the way Klavier's eyes kept flickering towards her throughout Phoenix's explanation. She didn't understand why he cared all of a sudden given the last time they had… interacted. She was (somewhat annoyingly) touched by his apparent concern and she wondered what was going on. Why had he behaved like he was contemptuous of her and now could barely look away out of worry? She didn't understand any of it and she wished that Klavier would stop playing games with her. She couldn't handle the bipolar behaviour on top of everything else. Just as she was on the verge of snapping at Klavier for staring at her, the door sounded again and Phoenix disappeared once more to answer it. Ema dreaded the silence that followed hoping against hope that Klavier wouldn't try to talk to her and that Phoenix would return quickly. Thankfully, her prayers were answered as Lana rushed through the door, calling her name and Klavier rose from the sofa to allow the worried sister to sit down. The moment Ema saw her, the torrent of tears that had been held so stubbornly in check spilled over. Lana wrapped her arms around Ema as the younger Skye clung to her while crying into her shoulder.

"Ema, oh Ema…" Lana murmured running a hand over her hair. "It's okay, honey. It's okay…"

Ema couldn't stop herself. She was embarrassed to be crying in front of the men but she couldn't quash the tears that ran down her cheeks as she released all her fears, her sorrow and her burdens into her sisters embrace. It wasn't just that someone had tried to kill her – it was the fact that she knew who it was and she couldn't tell anyone because she had to protect _him. _It was the fact that the one she was protecting was hating her one minute and then rushing to her side the next and she didn't know what any of it meant. It was everything – and the safe haven she found in her sisters arms was the only place she could let it all go without saying anything.

She didn't know how long she cried or how long Lana held her and comforted her with her embrace and her gentle words. She didn't know how long the men stood there watching her in silence. When Lana moved back a little to look into her face, Ema found that, finally, the river of emotions in her had run dry and she felt lighter than she had in a long time.

"Are you hurt?" Lana asked, her fingers running over Ema's face the same way that Klavier's had. For a second, in the back of her mind, Ema marvelled at the similarity of the action.

"Just feeling a bit sore," Ema sniffed, wiping her tears. "I'm okay. Mr Wright has been taking really good care of me." She looked around for Phoenix only to find him sitting beside Mr Edgeworth.

"Mr Edgeworth!" she exclaimed.

"Hello, Ema," he said inclining his head. "It's nice to see you again… Although the circumstances are less than savoury."

She smiled at him.

"What happened, Ema?" Lana demanded, her gaze boring into her sisters. "Who attacked you?"

So Ema retold the events for the second time that night to the silent audience. Every so often, at a particularly difficult part of the tale, Lana would squeeze her hand as if to remind her she had nothing to fear and that everything was okay. She looked from her sister's worried face to Mr Edgeworth's sombre one and finally to Mr Wright's grave expression. Seeing the faces of the people she loved and cared about around her, looking at her with so much apprehension, was a comfort to her of such an immeasurable amount that she almost broke down again.

"It does sound rather deliberate," Edgeworth said after she was finished. She looked at him quizzically and he explained, "It doesn't sound as though you happened upon a burglary."

"Yes," Phoenix agreed. "We believe it has something to do with a case Ema has been working on."

"Case?" Lana said rounding on Ema. "What case?"

Ema didn't want to lie to her sister but she couldn't tell her the truth about Deston either so she was grateful when Phoenix spoke up, saving her the trouble of being deceitful.

"She was investigating a Cadaverini they had in prison a few weeks ago – they had to let him go, being so untouchable and all – but I'm pretty sure that an unhappy family member has something to do with it."

This statement elicited quite the reaction from Lana whose grip on Ema tightened almost painfully. Behind Lana, something fell and everyone's eyes moved to the forgotten prosecutor. He was staring at Ema, horrified, his hand clenched in a tight fist barely noticing the attention he'd drawn from everyone in the room

"I'm sorry," Phoenix said a minute later, breaking the silence. "Lana, Edgeworth… This is Klavier Gavin. Mr Gavin is Ema's boss," he said to nobody in particular. Ema was relieved when Klavier tore his gaze away from her and nodded at the other two. She was becoming steadily unnerved by his staring. There was a silence in the moment that followed as if they expected him to explain his reaction before someone's phone began to ring and Ema recognised the Steel Samurai theme on Phoenix's phone. Everyone's attention was drawn to him as he answered it.

"Hello? Ah… Yes, they're all here. Yes, he is," Phoenix said and Ema wondered who he was talking to. "Of course… No, I agree, that's a great idea." He glanced at Klavier. "Of course. One moment." He stood up and held out his phone to Klavier. "It's Mr Cavatin, he wants to speak to you about something. Oh and keep a grip on the back. The sticky tape is kinda loose."

Klavier took the phone without question and turned around as if silently requesting privacy from his audience. Lana pulled Ema into another tight hug, kissing her forehead. Ema looked away from him but she was still listening to what he was saying and was disappointed when he started to speak in German. She had no idea what to make of it so she just focused on Mr Edgeworth.

"How long are you here for, Mr Edgeworth?" she asked. To her surprise, he didn't answer, except to continue staring at the floor, and she glanced at Lana who was looking at him, a small frown creasing her forehead. She looked back at him to see that a curious expression was on his face and that he glanced at Klavier fleetingly.

"Miles?" Lana said and his eyes snapped to hers.

"Yes?" he said.

"Ema was asking you how long you're here for," Lana said.

He turned his gaze to Ema. "Pardon me, Ema. Sometimes I tend to lose awareness when I'm thinking."

"Getting old, eh, Edgeworth?" Phoenix said, smirking at his friend.

"I'm here for a few months," Edgeworth said ignoring Phoenix's jibe.

Ema smiled gleefully. That meant she was going to have more time with Lana! This idea made her feel so much better about everything that she almost laughed. If Lana was here, Ema would be able to handle everything no problem…

"What is it, Mr Gavin?" Phoenix said and everyone's attention was drawn once more to the prosecutor who handed the tattered phone back to its owner. Klavier cleared his throat and Ema was amused to see that he looked uncomfortable. Soon, she found out why;

"Deston has a proposition," he said, his eyes running over all their faces. "He asks that you remember Ema is in need of the highest protection." He paused as if expecting somebody to interrupt however when nobody did, he continued. "He says that it would be best for Ema to come…" he took a deep breath. "…live… with me."

A long and painful silence followed this statement in which Ema stared at Klavier incredulously as if unsure she had heard him right. She glanced at Lana who was frowning at the prosecutor and she almost smirked – that would teach him to suggest such a ridiculous thing. Well, actually, he wasn't the one proposing it really, it was Deston… Ema's eyes widened. Was he so certain he could get to her there? If she did agree to the proposition, it would mean that Deston would be the _only_ one who could get through security without any questions asked… Did that mean he was now planning on doing the deed himself? And if so, how was he planning on getting away with it? Or did he assume that because of his status as a friend and member of the FBI he would be exempt from suspicion?

"There is no need for that, Mr Gavin," Lana's voice interrupted her thoughts and Ema refocused on the scene before her. "I will take Ema back to our home."

"I understand your desire to keep her close, Fräulein Skye," Klavier said inclining his head at her. "However, I can offer her maximum protection – "

"She will be perfectly safe with me," Lana interrupted coolly and Ema could tell that Klavier had annoyed her. Lana had probably taken offense at the insinuation that Klavier could look after her better. The sight of her fop of a boss being talked down to by her sister filled Ema with something akin to delight.

"Perhaps…" Edgeworth spoke slowly and Ema turned her gaze to him, "…it _would_ be wise to leave Ema with Mr Gavin."

"What?" Ema and Lana said in unison.

"I think he's right, Lana," Phoenix agreed. "Mr Gavin's apartment is a very safe building with a lot of security."

"Every floor is guarded and one cannot reach the top without an authorization code," Klavier provided. "Further to which, I have my own personal security who have been subjected to systematic investigation – they are all reliable and trustworthy."

"It would appear that it _is_ the safest place for Ema," Edgeworth said looking at the two sisters before he finally fixed Ema with his eyes. "Ema? If you want to stay with us, I can always hire security for the house and you will be very welcome. I do, however, believe that Mr Gavin's apartment is the safest place… for now. Until we find the one responsible at least."

Ema didn't answer straight away. Initially, her insides had twisted at the idea of having to live with Klavier but now, with Mr Edgeworth's advice, she was thinking twice about moving in with Lana. She looked at her sister who was eyeing her with an anxious expression as if waiting for her decision. She knew that whatever she decided, even if it was against Lana's better judgement, Lana would respect it. She stared into her sister's chestnut brown eyes and wondered what the hell she'd been thinking, wanting to move in with her. She would be putting her life, as well as Mr Edgeworth's, at risk and she wouldn't allow that. Lana deserved happiness after all that'd been through. She wouldn't subject her sister to more grief on her behalf. The SL-9 incident and the ensuing events had been more than enough.

She looked at Klavier who was waiting on her answer with an anxiousness in his eyes and she wondered why that was. Was it because he didn't want her to say yes? She could never tell with his ever-changing moods. One thing was for certain though – she would not risk Lana's life. She realised that by making this choice she was risking Klavier's but she hoped that maybe she was wrong and Deston was simply playing a ruse in order to establish his trustworthiness. She hoped, as she turned back to look at her Lana, that he would be far too cautious to attack her in Klavier's own home and would do so once she left.

"I…" she looked back up at Klavier. "Alright. I-I'll do it."

"You will come live with me?" Klavier asked, his voice tinged with the badly suppressed tone of disbelief. She nodded and everyone was silent once more. "Very well." He looked at Lana. "Do you want to accompany her to my…?"

"Yes," Lana said, never taking her gaze off Ema. "Ema, are you sure about this?" When Ema nodded, Lana sighed. "I guess that's that then."

She glanced at their faces and spoke to no one in general; "I need to get my things from – "

"You do not need to worry about that," Klavier said firmly. "I will have someone pick them up right now." He leaned down and picked up what appeared to be a phone and Ema suddenly understand what had fallen earlier. He had dialled a number and was talking to someone in an instant and Ema watched him, unable to believe that she was doing this. How was it that after everything she had found herself in a position where she was now having to live with him? She could not comprehend the idea of her sharing the same roof as Klavier Gavin. It was such an unbelievably ridiculous situation that she was sure if someone pinched her now she would find that she was dreaming… but the ache in her body made it plain enough that she _was _awake and that she _was _doing this. Well, the positive side to this was that she could keep an eye on him at all times now; she could protect him better and she was sure he needed protecting. She knew that whoever had tried to kill her tonight would almost certainly come after Klavier one day or another – and she would not let anything happen to him. She would not let Daryan and Deston's plan succeed

Ema was so busy watching Klavier that she didn't notice the three pairs of eyes watching _her. _Lana saw the fierce determination on her sister's face and swelled with pride at her courage. Surprisingly, it was Edgeworth, and not Lana, who saw beyond that veil of determination to the root of it – and upon seeing the nature of its birth, he turned to his childhood friend who smiled and nodded in confirmation. He glanced at the young prosecutor still talking into the phone and when his eyebrows rose, Phoenix nudged him discreetly with a wink. There was no need for words – Edgeworth understood everything now. And he approved.

* * *

It was almost two hours after her decision that Ema found herself in Klavier's impressive penthouse suite, hugging Lana goodbye as Edgeworth waited in the doorway for his now fiancée (Ema had noticed the ring on her finger). Lana had stayed with her for an hour helping her settle in after a shower and then sat with her throughout the medical examination of the doctor Klavier had summoned, promising to pick up the medicine he had recommended as soon as she could. Ema was going to be okay – there was no major damage to her except a few knocks and bruises. She was now holding on to Lana for a little longer than was probably necessary because the truth was that she didn't want to be left alone with Klavier.

"Now," Lana said pulling away first. "Make sure you take care of yourself and call me if you need anything at all. Okay?" Ema nodded and Lana's hand touched her cheek. "I don't feel right leaving you…"

"It's okay, sis." Ema smiled.

"Make sure you take good care of my sister, Mr Gavin," Lana said and nobody missed the warning tone of her voice. "I'm entrusting her safety to you."

Ema looked at Klavier who inclined his head respectfully, "I'll guard it with my life, Fräulein Skye."

Strangely enough, Ema didn't think he was exaggerating. In any case, she turned back to her sister, gave her one more quick hug, and walked her to the door of the apartment ignoring protests from Lana to stay in bed. At the door, Lana dropped a kiss on Ema's forehead and murmured, "Remember – anytime. I'll pop by in the morning."

"Goodnight, Ema," Edgeworth said with a nod of the head. "Goodnight, Mr Gavin."

"And you, Herr Edgeworth," Klavier said smoothly.

Ema stood in the doorway, watching Lana walk down the carpeted hallway and turn at the elevators to look back. She made a shoo-ing motion as if telling Ema to close the door and get inside but she didn't have the heart to do so. She was watching as the doors to the elevator opened and, upon entering, her sister waved while Edgeworth simply lifted a hand. When the doors closed and they were out of sight, Ema sighed and stepped back inside, closing the door behind her.

When Ema turned around, she saw Klavier standing in the middle of the vast room, looking at her with his hands locked behind his back. Ema ducked her head, her hair falling about her as she tried to hide her face and avoid eye contact. She moved past him muttering goodnight and made her way to her bedroom. Upon reaching it she closed it quietly and climbed into bed, her muscles screaming with relief once she relaxed. However, just as she reached out to turn off the lamp next to her, a knock sounded at her door and she felt the butterflies grow in her stomach. She had been hoping he would ignore her.

"Yeah?" she called. She stared at the door as it opened slowly and his frame filled the doorway. For a second, Ema was taken aback; the light of the lamp reflected off his face and platinum blond hair in a charming manner and the kind expression on his face seemed more pronounced than ever. She frowned; she wasn't accustomed to noticing things like this.

"May I come in?" he said quietly, his eyes fixed intently on her.

"It's your bedroom," Ema said with a weak smile.

"Do not think like that," Klavier said moving forward. "This is your home for as long you stay. Therefore, this bedroom is now yours." Ema was surprised at the welcoming manner of these remarks but didn't say anything. Instead, she watched him walk to the armchair near her bed and sink into it gracefully. "I have something to ask of you, Fräulein."

"Yes?" Ema said somewhat warily.

"I wish for your forgiveness."

Ema's eyes widened. "My… what?"

"Your forgiveness," Klavier said and he shook his head, looking at his hands before returning his gaze to her. "I put you in a dangerous position by asking you to interview Leo Cadaverini time upon time."

Ema was no expert on emotions except anger and stubbornness but she could recognise remorse and guilt and his voice was dripping with both. She saw it in his face too and she could not explain the sudden twinge she felt in her chest as if something had tapped her bare heart. The pang caused sorrow to slither through her being and she shivered. Klavier was on his feet and by her side in an instant.

"Are you cold?" Ema shook her head and forced herself up into a sitting position. She was not, of course, going to explain her shiver to him when she did not understand it herself. She was touched, however, by his concern and kindness. Whatever had caused his nasty behaviour in their last encounter seemed to have evaporated now and she was glad. Very glad.

"Are you certain?" Klavier asked. "I can fetch an extra blanket."

"No I'm fine," Ema said with another smile. "And there's nothing to forgive. I'm a detective. I don't exactly have the safest job, do I?" Klavier looked at her with a somewhat pained expression and she wished she knew what he was thinking. She looked away with a nervous laugh; "Besides I'd be annoyed if you just lumbered me with all the paperwork. I'm a practical girl." He chuckled dryly and she was sure that something else bothering him but she wasn't confident enough to ask him what and, really, it had nothing to do with her.

"There is…" he said after a minute and she turned back to him. "I have not been a gentleman." He looked up at her now and the piercing blue of his eyes was making her tingle again. "I am sorry for… the other day." Ema felt the butterflies multiply a hundredfold. "I was upset."

"Why?" She asked and then clenched her fists, wishing she hadn't said anything, wondering if she wanted to know the answer to that,

"I had a rough day," Klavier said and he held up his bandaged hand sheepishly. "I discovered something, broke a few fingers… Not that any of it excuses what I did to you." Ema wanted to know what he'd discovered to upset him so much and why he'd taken it out on her but she didn't know how to pose the question. "Please, Fräulein… forgive me."

Ema saw the guilt marring his features and she did. She let it all go and smiled at him, knowing that she didn't care about anything but the fact that this obviously meant he didn't hate her.

"I thought you hated me or something," Ema murmured and just as the words slipped out of her mouth, she bit her lip, horrified at what she'd just said. She ducked her head.

Klavier looked shocked; his eyes were wide and his eyebrows raised high. "Hate you?" he asked, disbelievingly. "I do not hate you Fräulein," he shook his head. "Wherever did you get a ludicrous idea like that? I was under the impression that my behaviour would induce a woman to believe the perpetrator was attracted to her." He was looking at her intently now and his voice had lowered. Ema took a deep breath and, with some difficulty, looked away.

"Well even if you had hated me, it wouldn't be that big a deal," she said shrugging. She wasn't going to let him run away with the notion that she cared about what he thought of her. She would die before she let him know that he had made her cry. She expected him to make a flirtatious remark, to try and say that she was just pretending she didn't care and that she secretly harboured a deep love for him. What she didn't expect was for his expression to turn to stone.

"I am keeping you awake," he said, blankly. "I will leave you now." Before Ema could register everything that had just happened, he had walked to the door and was closing it. "_Sie hassen den, fűr den Sie mich halten_," he murmured.

"What?" Ema asked and he looked at her.

"Nothing," he said, his face still blank. "_Gute nacht_, _liebling_."

The closing door bathed the room in the dark until Ema's confused face was overcome by the shadows of the night, leaving her feeling anxious, stressed and guilty… and she didn't even know why.


	15. Singing Praise I

She is the water and earth of me

And the space between each grain too

And why is she blind and cannot see,

She's the rose and I the morning dew?

.'.

Klavier rubbed his eyes as he walked through the halls of the prison he'd become so accustomed to prowling of late and hoped, for the thousandth time, that Ema was okay. He'd felt awful leaving her alone even if her sister was with her. It was difficult to leave her side at all these days what with the attack on her but what made it worse was the fact that he just couldn't be away from her for too long.

He'd grown so used to having her live with him in such a short space of time that he worried constantly how he was going to feel when she eventually left. Seeing her face first thing in the morning, hearing her voice as he ate his breakfast or just the general sound of her moving around their – _my, _he reminded himself for the millionth time – apartment, made him feel things he hadn't known were possible. Ever since the night of her attack, Klavier's love had grown and every time he thought he couldn't love her more, he was proven wrong. Living with her had revealed her little idiosyncrasies; like the fact that she always had orange juice in the mornings, tapped her bare foot on the floor as she waited for the water in the kettle to boil, made sure the salt and pepper were smack bang in the middle of the table and read the ingredients on everything she ate a thousand times over. He had no idea why these things (and more) endeared her to him but there it was – he was falling harder for her every day.

Unfortunately, he could not be with her at all times – the man who had attacked her was still out there and Klavier would not rest until he'd found him. At the thought of the thug, Klavier's jaw clenched and he tried to control his expression. He finally understood that protective instinct to kill anyone who hurt the one he loved – he would never do it (maybe he'd throw a punch or two), however, he _understood_;because now all Klavier wanted to do was find the bastard and come down on him like a ton of bricks. When he found him, Klavier would make him pay for every tear she shed because of him, every bruise he'd inflicted on her.

But it wasn't that easy – the police had found traces of blood at Ema's apartment and upon analysis, it hadn't been hers or anyone else they had on the system. It didn't belong to a single Cadaverini and all roads led to a dead end. He was starting to wonder if the Cadaverinis had anything to do with it at all – it didn't seem like their type of thing. When the Cadaverinis went after something, they always succeeded. Klavier was half hoping it had nothing to do with them at all – he didn't want a crime syndicate hunting down Ema, especially one that the police couldn't touch. On the other hand, now he had no idea where to look.

He glanced at his watch and tried to clear his mind. He couldn't be thinking about all this right now. He had two appointments to keep; one with Rafael Rainsford and, from what he'd heard of the man, he needed his wits about him for this interview. He had every intention of finding out everything about Gale's murder and when Klavier Gavin set his mind on something, he succeeded. He was not going to let an animal outwit him. The second was for later on tonight; a party thrown by Ema's sister and he had been invited. He was somewhat looking forward to driving Ema to it.

"This way," the warden said to Klavier and he wasn't surprised to see himself being led through a door to solitary confinement again.

"Why is he in solitary confinement?" Klavier asked.

"He causes too much trouble," the warden said shortly. Klavier didn't bother asking for more information from the man – he'd met the warden enough times now to realise he was a very anti-social person. Instead, he followed silently and cast a glance towards the cell where the criminal was sat on his bed examining his nails with an interested expression. Klavier's first thought was the man was vain – and he had every right to be. The photo he'd seen had done no justice to the man and Klavier knew that he probably attracted almost as many women as Klavier did without the aid of fame.

"Do you want to go inside?" the warden asked and Klavier looked at him in surprise.

"_Natűrlich,_" he said. "Why would you ask?"

"He's in that cell for a reason," the warden said seriously. "Better think twice."

"I will be fine," Klavier said firmly. The warden shrugged as if to say _on your own head be it_ and unlocked the door. Klavier scrutinised the man again and saw that he hadn't looked up from his nails. "I'll be nearby," the warden said opening the cell. "Call me if… you need anything." Klavier had a pretty good idea that the warden had been about to say 'if he does anything'. Resisting the urge to snort, he simply nodded and stepped into the den of the lion with narrowed eyes. He waited for Rainsford to look up at him but the man continued his perusal of his hand as if nothing had happened. Klavier thought he understood – he wanted to set the tone of the conversation and he meant to intimidate Klavier. _Good luck, Mr Rainsford, _Klavier thought hitching his thumb in his belt and leaned against the bars. He could wait.

And he did. He continued to observe Rainsford and he found it quite difficult to reconcile the man he'd heard about with the one before him. He seemed like a, vain but, normal man. He was very well kept for a prisoner and Klavier's eyes narrowed again wondering if he'd managed to corrupt someone in the prison to get his hands on certain amenities. Klavier made a note to investigate that – he would not allow such things especially not for a man like this.

Rainsford's pose was cocky and relaxed at the same time and Klavier wanted to kick him. It was childish, immature and somewhat amusing but he really just wanted to kick the man. Not a punch – a _kick._ Right in the –

"You look uncannily like your brother, Mr Gavin," Rainsford said and Klavier's attention was diverted from his thoughts. The insufferable man was still staring at his nails… so when had he looked at him?

"_Ja,_" Klavier agreed, willing to play along for now. "That is where the similarities end." His voice was casual but his words were dripping with meaning and he was sure that the message was clear_._

"Hmm," his inspection turned to his other hand and Klavier wanted to give Rainsford a cast very much like the one he'd had – except he wanted it around his body, not just his hand. "I know. Your brother told me all about you."

Klavier was taken back and his expression faltered, giving way to shock. When and why had Kristoph talked to this – this _bastard_ about him? Rainsford looked up at this point and the deep blue eyes further disconcerted him – they reminded him of Kristoph. When he saw the amusement glittering there, Klavier's own narrowed in anger and he realised the man had meant to catch him off-guard and he'd managed to do so. Klavier had no difficulty believing Rainsford had been sitting there wondering which way to best unsettle him and unwilling to give him that, Klavier wiped his face of all emotion.

"We are brothers after all," Klavier said coolly. "It is natural for him to mention me."

Rainsford chuckled and leaned forward until his elbows were resting on his knees and his fingers were entwined and he looked straight at Klavier. "I would offer you something to eat… drink… but as you can see," he glanced about him, gesturing at his cell. "I have very little to offer."

"Do not be so modest, Herr Rainsford," Klavier said with a smirk. "I believe you have much to offer."

"There's no need for formalities," the other said with a pleasant smile. "Call me Rafael."

Klavier didn't respond straight away; he was having a hard time understanding Rafael. He had no doubt that had he met the him on the street he would have thought him a pleasant man and not at all capable of the atrocities he had read about. He would have to be careful with him.

"That is gracious of you, Mr Rainsford," Klavier said somewhat mockingly but Rafael simply flashed a grin at him. "I am here in the hopes that you will help me with a little problem that has been… confusing me."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Rafael said. "Please… sit down," he gestured towards the chair near him.

"I prefer to stand," Klavier said in a bid to signify that he was not easily commanded. Rafael, however, seemed unfazed and he gesticulated as if to say 'it's your choice'. "Now, you are on death row for the murder of Gale Rainsford."

"That's right," Rafael said casually and Klavier had to fight hard to keep his face devoid of emotion.

"You kidnapped, abused and murdered her?" Klavier said although it wasn't really a question.

"According to the evidence and the courts, yes – I did," Rafael said with a smile.

Klavier wasn't even going to comment on the callousness of Rafael's tone. "I want to know why."

He was hoping for some sort of a reaction from the man, anything to indicate that he had caught him off guard but all Rafael did was lean back against the wall, put his foot on the edge of the bed and rest an arm on his leg.

"I can see what Kristoph meant," Rafael said after a moment and Klavier frowned. Since when had his brother and Rafael been on first name terms? "You're very forthright." Klavier remained quiet, keeping his gaze locked with Rafael's knowing that he was only trying to steer the conversation away from his question. "You met Gale." Again, Klavier was taken aback but this time he was able to prevent a physical reaction to the statement. _How did he know?_ "Gale never mentioned you but it's clear you met her."

"Why is that?" Klavier asked nonchalantly.

"Whenever she met a man, she left her mark on him," Rafael said with a shrug. "Personally, I don't know what the fuss was about. I didn't see anything special in her. She wasn't even much to look at."

"You murdered a woman," Klavier said coldly. "I do not expect you saw much in anything."

Rafael laughed. "Aaaah! See, Klavier! There! It's that look…" He flicked a hand towards the prosecutor. "It's that _anger… _that _passion_. I see it burning in every man whoever spoke a word to her. It was quite a talent she had." He shook his head and Klavier's jaw clenched. "But it didn't save her life."

Klavier took a discreet, deep breath and reminded himself that the bastard was just trying to provoke him and he had to remain calm. He was dealing with a real professional and he knew how to get under Klavier's skin; he'd already managed to do that to him twice in under ten minutes.

"Why did you take her life?" Klavier said calmly.

"She was of no importance to me," Rafael said dismissively waving a hand. "Simply a means to an end. She failed me so I disposed of her."

"Do you always rape your rubbish before you throw it away?" Klavier asked in a tone of forced calm.

Rafael threw back his head and laughed heartily. "No, not always. But when it's my brother's rubbish then yeah, I might have a rummage to see if any valuables fall out."

Klavier experienced a swooping sensation in his stomach at these words, like he'd missed a step, and he suddenly felt sick. He had to struggle to control what his face gave away, however, considering Rafael's next statement, he wasn't doing a very good job.

"You're shocked," he said amused. "Don't tell me you've never gone through Kristoph's things before."

"I do not understand," Klavier said, swallowing the bile rising in his throat.

"I was looking for my brother," Rafael said with a smile. "That's all it means."

Klavier struggled to control himself again and with considerable difficulty, he cleared his face of emotion again determined it would be the last time he would have to do it and he was grateful for the steadiness of his voice when he spoke. "What did your brother have to do with Gale?"

"Can't you guess?" Rafael said, raising an eyebrow. Klavier stared at him blankly as several thoughts hit him at once. The surnames. The sorrow in her voice. The grief on her face. "Looks like you figured it out. You're as sharp as Kristoph."

Klavier ignored him, inwardly scowling at how easily the bastard was reading him. "They were an item."

"Yep. The lovesick Gale took the surname even though he left her," Rafael said his eyes back on his nails and then he swept the room again. "Thought I could force his destination out of her but she proved to be a little too loyal. You should have seen the look on her face when I approached her asking for his whereabouts," Rafael laughed and it took all of Klavier's willpower to prevent his hand from curling into a fist.

"So when she would not help you, you killed her."

"Oh, no, no," Rafael said, chuckling. "I thought he might come to save her or whatever it is heroes do for their heroines. I figured he did actually _love _her," he chuckled, shrugging good-naturedly as if he'd simply lost a game to a friend. "I guess I watched too many movies…" He flashed another grin at Klavier. "He's more intelligent than I thought but I should have expected it. He is my brother after all."

Klavier crossed his arms nodding, not trusting himself to talk. A lot of things were making sense now. This explained the 6 months in which Gale had been held hostage, the surnames and many other questions. However, now he had new questions.

"Why did you go to such lengths to find your brother?"

Rafael was silent for a moment and Klavier could have sworn the man before him changed physically; he seemed to grow bigger, darker… stronger. His head rose slowly. "He and I have unfinished business," Rafael said and Klavier was disturbed at how quickly the smile disappeared. Those eyes were fixed on him again and there was none of the fake friendliness in them now, none of the pleasantness that had been there since the beginning of the conversation. Now, they were filled with a dark power that Klavier had seen many times before but never with such… intensity.

"Business important enough to kill for?" Klavier asked, his own icy blue eyes blazing now.

"You believe in criminals getting what they deserve don't you, Klavier?" Rafael murmured standing up for the first time and Klavier pushed himself away from the door, straightening his back, and took a step toward Rafael.

"I do."

"Your brother's in prison for a murder. If he hadn't been discovered, and you found out one day, would you have turned him in?"

Klavier's shock at the question paled in comparison to the unexpected answer it brought forth from him; "Yes." _I would?_

_Yes… I would._

"If you knew he had committed crimes that were not punishable by law," Rafael approached him slowly, his eyes never leaving Klavier's. "If you knew he had destroyed so many lives… But you could not bring him to justice in court… What would you do?" He stopped two feet away from Klavier who was watching Rafael with cautious eyes and on guard for an attack. "If he had hurt the woman you loved…" Klavier's mind instantly went to Ema and her attacker. His mind's eye recalled the bruises he'd seen on her of late, the tears she had shed and the subsequent anger arose in him once more. "If because of Kristoph… a heartless, cruel man… the woman you loved more than life itself was made almost catatonic…" Klavier stiffened as, unbidden, an image of Ema in a hospital bed crossed his mind. "If he had used emotion to destroy emotion… What would you do?"

Klavier imagined the fire gone from Ema's eyes, neither scowl nor smile gracing her lips – instead a blank face devoid of emotion and he winced. Had Rafael suffered from something like that? Had he loved a woman whose demise had unhinged him? Klavier wavered in his judgement of Rafael, picturing Ema again. He didn't know what he would be capable of if he ever saw her face like that… But just as that image was torturing him another voice spoke up in his mind and he centred his attention on Rafael with suspicious eyes.

"You have a wife," he shot at him. "And she's perfectly fine."

Rafael laughed suddenly and the darkness in his face had vanished. "I never said she wasn't, Klavier!"

Klavier's eyes closed as his fist curled and it was with tremendous effort that he prevented it from connecting straight with Rafael's face. When he opened his eyes, he saw the man back on his bed with an extremely satisfied and amused expression on his face. Klavier knew it was time to go – he couldn't control his temper anymore and he couldn't benefit anymore from this interview. What was more, Rafael had proven to be a formidable adversary who had the devil's very own tongue – he had to think things through before talking to him further. He knew it was far from over; in fact, he was sure it was just beginning and if he wanted to be successful in the investigation, he couldn't do it if he was being victimised in mind games. So he simply called out to the warden who came much more hurriedly than Klavier had ever seen him walk. He turned to Rafael.

"I have an appointment elsewhere, Mr Rainsford," Klavier said. "We will talk again soon."

"Well, make sure it's sooner rather than later, Klavier!" Rafael said tapping his wrist as if to indicate a watch. "I'm living on borrowed time!" He laughed.

As Klavier walked away, a nasty feeling overcame him and it went beyond the unease at the sadistic personality he had just encountered. Somehow, he believed he was in deeper than he realised… And he wasn't going to get out unscathed.

* * *

"Fräulein?" Klavier called upon entering his apartment, his keys jingling in his hand as he threw them aside and walked towards her bedroom. When she didn't reply straight away Klavier looked around himself. Her things were scattered around the flat and it warmed his heart that she had made herself at home. Her coat was thrown across the back of the sofa which meant she wasn't out anywhere. He'd left her with Lana so even if Ema didn't reply, her sister should have. He turned back to the door with a frown and knocked. "Fräulein Skye?" he called, hoping one of the Skyes would answer him. However, when he still didn't get a response, alarm swept through him and he turned the handle of the door.

He had been expecting the worst – but he found the best. Ema was on the bed, asleep. Klavier's eyes roamed over her admiring the graceful pose of her sleeping body. She was wearing the same clothes she'd been wearing this morning – a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He had seen the curves of her slender legs before leaving for work but now he saw that they were in fact much more beautiful than he had first noticed. He wondered what it would be like to touch them, to have his fingers trail up the flawlessly creamy skin, to have them –

Klavier shook his head and a string of German curses burst forth from his lips. He shouldn't be thinking like this – she was his friend's girlfriend and what was more, she didn't even like him – there was no way she would ever let him do any of that to her. He had to get a grip on himself, he had to stop fantasizing about things that could never be…

And yet, despite all this reasoning, Klavier found his fingers moving towards her brown hair that was sprawled out around her on the pillow, framing her angelically beautiful face. He knew how soft that hair was – he'd felt it when he'd kissed her neck…

He winced. That memory still bothered him despite her obvious forgiveness. She had been civil to him, sometimes even bordering on friendly, and it was hard to keep in mind what he had overheard. He knew that it was the man in him that loved her to death that wanted to forget the truth of the matter – she hated him. He'd tried to reason himself out of it – every day. He told himself there had been some mistake but then his insecurities rose again as he remembered the way she'd made it further clear when she'd told him she didn't care if he hated her. Although how she could have ever thought he hated her baffled him.

Ema murmured something, startling him. She ran a hand across her eyes, stretching, and sighed. Klavier shuddered remembering the many dreams that plagued him at night. He had to wake her up or they would be late for the party. More importantly, he had to wake her up or he would be lost.

"Fräulein?" he said softly, putting a hand to her shoulder, careful not to touch her skin. "Wake up. HerrEdgeworth is expecting us."

He expected it would be harder to get her up but Ema's eyes opened and she gazed at him for several long moments as if uncomprehending his presence and yet mesmerised by him at the same time. Klavier's heart began to beat faster with every passing second she continued to stare at him. Her hand, which had been by her face, lifted to cover his and the softness of her fingers on the back of his hand made his body tingle. What was going through her mind? How could she look at him like that if she hated him? He wanted to lean down and kiss her now and he was certain she wouldn't push him away…

Ema's eyes widened and she sat up suddenly, turning her glare on him.

"What are you doing, glimmer-boy!" She demanded.

Klavier chuckled although his insides were just screaming at him to run… _run away, back to your special spot… have some time… get away from this constant rejection and pain…_

"Your sister and Herr Edgeworth are expecting us remember?" Klavier said instead. He tapped his watch. "The party is at 4, _ja_? It is half past 3. Should you not get dressed so we can go?"

"Half 3!" she shrieked jumping out of bed. "Dammit why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"I just came home, Fräulein," Klavier said, hitching a thumb in his belt loop and smiling as she rushed around. "I am somewhat surprised that Fräulein Skye is not here and that you did not go with her when she left."

"She had to go prepare for the party," Ema said, her face buried in one of her suitcases. "And I wanted a nap."

"Why do you not hang your clothes in the closet?" Klavier asked. "It would be much easier to find what you need."

"I won't be here long," she said, yanking something that looked remarkably like… Klavier looked away, his face turning red and his sadness at her comment was quickly replaced by embarrassment.

"I will leave you to get ready," he said, hastily walking out of the room. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

He didn't wait for a response. He was closing the door behind him and marching to his bedroom, shutting his own door as well. He was in a cold shower within minutes and it was 15 minutes later that he felt somewhat calm enough to face her again. He pulled on a pair of his usual pants and a white shirt (after all, nobody had said it was a formal occasion), opting to leave his jacket at home; he had suffered in the day's heat enough. Just as he opened his door to step out, he picked up his chain from the table. He walked out into the lounge pulling it around his neck but stopped when he saw Ema was already there. She was running her hands through her hair that was, for once, not tied back in any way. It fell about her face, brown tresses highlighting the creaminess of her skin and accentuating the green of her eyes. Klavier took a deep breath willing himself not to look at the rest of her but his eyes had a mind of their own; she was dressed casually in a pair of capris pants and camisole but she looked beautiful, her natural curves displayed…

Klavier shook himself mentally. "You look nice, Fräulein," he flashed a grin at her as he headed over to where he'd throw his keys.

"Why do you always wear skin-tight shirts?" She asked.

Klavier fought the urge to laugh; he supposed that was her way of reciprocating the compliment. "Why, to display my impressive physique of course!" he said, picking up his keys and winking at her. "I am flattered you take the time to notice."

"Hmph." She glowered at him.

"Shall we?" he said opening the front door for her. "I am glad you chose to wear those clothes."

"Why?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at him as she passed through the open door.

"It will make the ride on the hog easier," Klavier said and he had to fight hard to keep a straight face at the way she froze and stared at him with wide, horrified eyes.

"What!" Ema yelped and he grinned at her, his worries and burdens forgotten again. How could he have thought he had lost this with her? She was his release just as always – just looking at her was the balm for his searing wounds. "I'm not getting on your _hog_!"

"I am just joking, Fräulein. We are taking my car," Klavier said, gesturing down the hallway and flashing her his best smile. "After you."

"You fop," she mumbled as she marched past him and Klavier smirked. Everything was alright again. Maybe she had been annoyed with him when she'd said she hated him. Who knew what the reason was? Ema was a grouch after all – he wouldn't put it past her to say things she didn't mean. He quashed the voice of insecurity that rose in him again. No, he was a prosecutor, he knew that things weren't always as they seemed. So, with a light heart, Klavier followed after her, admiring the way she walked. He wondered what she would call him if she knew where he was looking.

* * *

"Slow down!" Ema snapped at him for the 3rd time since setting off from his apartment – it had only been 5 minutes and already Klavier was having the time of his life. He found that the moment he was in the car with her, his chest had expanded and the butterflies pushed back the darkness that was taking over his life. Yes, he was certain he'd just overreacted to, what was probably, just a heated remark on her part. He felt like he was back in high school, asking a girl out for the first time. But he wasn't doing anything like that – it was just the fact that they were together out of choice rather than necessity. She could have easily gone with Lana and taken a nap at her house, he reasoned, but the very fact that she had remained behind meant she did not mind being with him. Very soon, he'd walk into a party with Ema Skye by his side.

What did he have to be upset about?

Even if she didn't like him, he'd change that. He wouldn't give up on his love for her and he certainly wouldn't give up trying to gain her feelings. The fact that they were now living together just made it that much easier – he got to see her much more often, day or night, and he learnt more about her with every passing minute. The more he knew about her, the more ammunition he had to woo her.

Klavier frowned as her relationship status crossed his mind fleetingly. Deston was a fool – the fact that he'd remained out of the country for several days after Ema's attack had proven to Klavier that Deston didn't deserve her. Much as he hated to admit it, Klavier had lost some of his respect for his friend. Deston had turned up almost a week after her attack with some hare-brained excuse about having some 'really important' business he could not leave and had he not known that Ema was going to be all right, he would have come back no matter what. That wasn't good enough for Klavier – if Ema was going to give her affection to a man, she deserved nothing less than complete devotion. She deserved to be taken care of. As far as Klavier was concerned, Deston might as well have come up to him and told him to steal Ema away.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ema said, the volume of her voice rising. "I said SLOW DOWN!" Klavier glanced at her sideways, a smirk on his face, and he decreased the speed – but not by much. "What are you smirking about, Klavier?"

"Nothing, Fräulein."

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?" Ema demanded. "You don't just smirk for no rea…son…" She went quiet and Klavier looked at her sideways, intrigued by her sudden silence.

"What is it, Fräulein Detektiv?"

"Well, you do smirk at nothing." She crossed her arms and looked at him accusingly. "All the time, actually."

Klavier blinked, his eyes fixed on the road before him for several seconds as his mind processed her glare and the words that accompanied it. Then, quite suddenly, he pulled over and no sooner had he turned off the ignition that he put his head against the steering wheel and started to laugh.

"What – ?" he heard her say but his body was shaking and before he knew it he was laughing uproariously, clutching onto the wheel as if holding on for dear life. Funnily enough, he was – she always induced the extreme of every emotion. Had it been anybody else, he would have probably cracked a smile at the most but because it was coming from her… the tone of her voice, the look on her face; it was all too much for Klavier.

"What are you laughing at!" She sounded very irritated and Klavier predicted the words 'glimmerous fop' were resting on the tip of her tongue. "We're going to get late you glimmerous, insane fop! Get…" She went quiet again as another flood of laughter overtook him; he loved that he'd been right. He turned to look at her bemused face and took her hand in his; the contact caused a shock to course through him again but he wasn't taken aback now.

"Fräulein… please promise me you'll never change," he said, gazing into her glittering emerald eyes.

And he was captured.

The moment their eyes met, his mirth died as his being was overtaken by something more powerful, more dangerous and he knew he should let go of her hand, that he should pull away and resume the drive but he couldn't. Something was moving through his veins, lodging in his heart, making it heavy and light at the same time. His heartbeat was going crazy. He was enthralled.

"Y-you what?" Ema stuttered looking at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"Please don't ever change," he said softly, his voice low. He put his other hand over hers, covering it in both of his own and, as if his body had a mind of its own, they moved upwards towards his heart. He wanted to put her fingers against his chest, right over his beating heart. He wanted her to feel his heartbeat and know that it was for her. He wanted her to know that he was willing to spill the blood that pulsed through him just to keep her safe.

"Klavier…?" her voice both pulled him in further and broke the spell on him. He glanced down at their hands. _Damn it, _he thought, _what am I doing? _Instead, he raised her fingers to his lips and kissed the back of her hand before smiling at her.

"I am sorry, Fräulein," he said letting it go. He suddenly felt much emptier and his hand much colder. He turned on the ignition and moved onto the road again as he spoke; "I did not think it wise to drive while I was laughing."

Ema didn't respond and Klavier glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed speechless and Klavier smiled inwardly; he thought it a good sign that he'd affected her this way. He hadn't meant for it to happen but he could never regret it – how could he ever, when all he ever wanted to do was to hold her, kiss her and love her? And she seemed… yes, she was definitely affected by what had just happened. Klavier wondered if his plan to make her fall in love with him was more deeply ingrained in his mind than he realised – was his subconscious acting on it when his conscious missed an opportunity?

He drove in silence for a few minutes before trying to engage her in a conversation again, hoping to alleviate some of tension that had thickened in the car.

"Do you know the reason for this party?" he asked.

"Yes," Ema said stiffly and Klavier had to fight hard to keep the smile off his face – he didn't think it would help the progress of the conversation if he smirked again.

"Would you care to share with me, Fräulein Detective?"

"Why do you always switch between German and English?" she asked suddenly and Klavier was surprised but not surprised enough not to notice that she had changed the subject. Knowing he'd find out the answer to his question soon enough anyway, he decided to answer her.

"It is a habit," he said. "I was taught both German and English by…" he paused, shocked at where his answer was going. "…my mother." Klavier frowned, wondering why he'd mentioned his mother when he always focused his energy into not thinking about her. He looked at Ema sideways and wondered if her power over him was such that just being in her presence was really enough to make talking about his mother bearable. How had this young woman bewitched him so?

"Your mother knows English?" Ema said.

"Yes, she did." Klavier said shortly. It may be possible talking about his mother with Ema but it did not mean he was ready to get into a conversation about it.

"Did?" Ema echoed.

"She is dead."

"Oh." A pause. Then – "I'm sorry. I for…" She quietened again.

"To help me learn, she used to mix the two languages together," Klavier explained, choosing to ignore the apology. "She would slip English within German to help me understand the words in context. When I became fluent enough, she stopped but it became embedded in my mind. Ever since, I have been unable to stop combining the two. You could say it is a trait I have inherited from my mother."

"Oh. Right." Ema was quiet again for a moment and Klavier wondered what she was thinking. Somehow, he expected her to have more questions and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her open her mouth and then close it as if changing her mind about what she was going to say. On any other subject, Klavier would have encouraged her to ask but there were some questions he was sure would crop up about his mother that he didn't want to answer.

"My parents are dead too," Ema said and Klavier took his eyes off the road for a few seconds to look at her, somewhat surprised at her willingness to offer this information. Her face was blank but he knew, from experience, that grief always accompanied that look.

"I am sorry, Fräulein," he said. "Do you have any other siblings?"

She shook her head. "It's just us. Lana's had to be my mom and dad for nearly all of my life…" He saw her turn her head. "She's always looked out for me."

Klavier marvelled at how alike he and Ema were – both having lost their parents, both one of two siblings… and yet they were so different. From what he'd seen, Klavier was certain Lana Skye would die to protect her sister while Kristoph would probably kill Klavier to protect himself. He knew this was a harsh judgement on his brother but recent events and revelations had made him doubt Kristoph in many ways.

"Lana deserves to be happy," Ema said and Klavier wondered why she had said that now. Had he missed something she said? He was sure he hadn't. What was going through her mind?

"So do you, Fräulein," he said with a smile. She didn't respond and Klavier saw she was still staring out of the window. Knowing too well the melancholy that came with remembering the death of one's parents, he left her to her thoughts and the remainder of the drive was spent in silence. It was a few minutes later that he pulled into the driveway of a rather large house. There were a few other cars scattered around the road but none that Klavier recognised. He got out of his Aston Martin and just as he made to walk around it and open the door for Ema, she stepped out herself and looked at the house. Klavier was relieved to see that there was no trace of sorrow on her face now – she looked happy to be here and he knew it was because she was going to see her sister.

Somewhere deep inside, where the loneliness resided, Klavier felt a twinge of envy.


	16. Singing Praise II

She rests on the throne of my being;

She is my heart's eternal wife.

Yet she looks at me without seeing,

I've crowned her the Queen of my strife.

.'.

They didn't have to wait at the door for very long – it was answered almost instantly by Edgeworth who looked a little harassed. Nevertheless, he greeted them courteously and led them to the lounge that reminded Klavier very much of his family home back in Germany; it was spacious despite playing host to several people. Klavier saw Phoenix, Apollo, Trucy and Gumshoe with Maggey however, there were others he didn't recognise. His attention was drawn particularly to a woman with light blue hair and a whip; she was quite beautiful but severe looking and Klavier wondered who she was – it was the whip that intrigued him. He turned to Ema to ask if she knew her identity but found that the detective had disappeared, no doubt to find her sister. With a smile he turned back to the people in the room and saw that Trucy was approaching him, dragging a very awkward looking Apollo with her.

"Hello Mr Gavin!" she said bouncing on the soles of her feet and he smiled at her.

"Fräulein," he inclined his head. "You look wonderful as always." She grinned at him without blushing and he liked her for it. Roses in cheeks were cute at first but it all got awfully boring after a while. Klavier looked at Apollo with a smirk. "Ah, Herr Forehead. You look different." He leaned forward, his hands on his waist, pretending to scrutinise Apollo's face. "Have you done something new to your forehead? It is looking extra wide and shiny today."

Apollo scowled but chose to ignore the dig. "How's Ema?"

"Ah," Klavier said, straightening up again and playing with a lock of his hair. "She is quite alright. I believe she has gone to find her sister."

"What happened to your hand?" Trucy gasped and a hand rose to cover her mouth. Klavier looked at it – it was no longer in a cast but the last two fingers were still bandaged together.

"It is nothing to worry about, fräulein," he flashed her a charming smile, touched by her concern. "It was a mere accident."

Apollo seemed ready to make a remark and, judging by the expression on his face, Klavier guessed it was a sarcastic one however, at that moment, Lana came in the room (predictably followed by Ema) and interrupted.

"Ah, Mr Gavin!" she smiled at him as she approached. Klavier knew he had offended her in some way upon their first meeting but the past few weeks had changed her opinion of him; she had ceased looking at him coolly and was noticeably more friendly. "I'm so glad you came. Have a drink," she gestured towards the tray of wine glasses on the table behind him and he inclined his head. "We're just waiting on one or two other guests. Meanwhile – "

"Whoooaaa!" a voice cut across her and they all turned to see a man ogling Ema. "Who's this!"

Lana sighed. "This is Ema, Larry. My sister."

Klavier watched in bewilderment as Larry threw a fit. Exclaiming "_What_! Why didn't you tell me you had such a hottie for a sister, Lana?" he rushed over to Ema (who was looking positively alarmed) and gazed into her face. "Where've you been all my life! Man, Edgey, get me some ice!" he cried to Edgeworth who was glaring at him. "I'm gettin' hot!" Klavier rose an eyebrow. 'Edgey'? He'd never dreamt the man known as the Demon Prosecutor would be called something so… unrefined.

"Perhaps you should jump in the lake out back," Phoenix said, joining them. "Seems like a more practical solution. There's no use wasting perfectly good ice."

"Not to mention we'll be rid of him for the duration of the party," Klavier heard Edgeworth mutter.

"Larry," Phoenix glancing at Larry with exasperation and Klavier was surprised to see the expression on Phoenix's face – usually, the only emotion that inhabited his features was boredom. "I think it would be in everyone's best interests if you refrained from your… antics."

"Yo, Nick!" Larry turned on Phoenix with a scowl. "You're crampin' my style dude!"

Klavier surveyed the man, taking in his bright orange jacket and the too-short-for-him pants and wondered what style Larry was referring to. From the expressions on everyone's faces and the behaviour he was exhibiting, Larry seemed to be a bit of an idiot. He wondered how on earth he'd managed to befriend Phoenix and Edgeworth.

"Franziska?" Edgeworth said, turning and looking at the blue-haired woman who narrowed her eyes at him.

"What?" she snapped.

"Why are you standing all the way over there?" Edgeworth asked. She sniffed and stalked over to the group.

"Mr Gavin," Edgeworth said. "This is Franziska von Karma."

"Fräulein von Karma," he said, fingers playing with his fringe again. Yes, of course he'd heard of her. The whip made much more sense now. "_Wie geht es dir?_"

To his surprise, the woman unleashed her whip with a resounding _crack _and everyone around him flinched. She glared at him as it hung by her side, her hand on her hip.

"Don't you know it's rude to speak in German around non-German speakers?" she demanded with an authoritarian tone. Klavier saw Ema giggle out of the corner of his eye.

"But I was addressing you, Fräulein," he said turning on the charm. "It is never my intention to be rude."

"Fool!" she said and Klavier found an amused smile creeping onto his face. "I know who you were addressing. I would be a fool if I didn't and this room may be full of foolishly foolish fools foolishly indulging in foolishly foolish frivolities but I am no such fool!"

Klavier nodded solemnly. "I know. You are a woman of refined taste. Tales of your excellence have reached me."

Franziska narrowed her eyes and she cracked her whip again causing a few of them to recoil again. "Are you mocking me, Klavier Gavin?"

"_Nein_," Klavier shook his head, trying to hold back a laugh. "I would never dare."

She stared at him for several moments, as if attempting to determine whether or not to believe him, in which he stared back at her with a pleasant smile. Then, with an annoyed "hmph" she whipped Larry who yelped. Klavier's eyes widened at the sight of the man (who had tears in his eyes) and Franziska who was smirking. He hadn't actually thought she would used that whip on anyone – now he understood all the flinching. He glanced at Edgeworth, who looked somewhat satisfied, and Klavier had an inkling Edgeworth had called Franziska over to do to Larry what he could not. Klavier marvelled at the strange characters he was surrounded by and, yet, he was enjoying himself.

"So, when are you going to tell us why we're here?" Phoenix asked turning to Lana and Miles.

"Soon," Lana said with a smile. "We're just waiting for Diego and…" She turned to Ema. "Did Deston say whether he was coming?"

"Yeah, he is," Ema said, nodding. Klavier was somewhat disappointed – he'd hoped to have Ema to himself for tonight. He quickly shook himself of this feeling and tried to remind himself that while Deston might not have behaved with propriety with regards to Ema, he was still Ema's boyfriend… not Klavier.

"How is Diego?" Phoenix said. "I haven't…"

The sound of the doorbell interrupted him and Lana laughed. "You can ask him yourself. That's probably him right now."

Klavier was feeling somewhat out of place; everyone seemed to know everyone else and the people he did know were either acquaintances, colleagues or both. He recognised quite a few people standing around, like Franziska von Karma, but it was either because he'd heard of them from a previous case or their links to law enforcement. There was nobody here he could really call a friend except Ema. And Deston, he thought, the disappointment hitting him again. Well at least once he was here, Klavier would have someone he could talk to on a level.

Except, he would also have to watch him with Ema.

The woman he loved.

"Mr Gavin." He turned to face the voice and found Edgeworth looking at him with a small smile. "May I have a word with you?" he said gesturing towards double doors on his right. Somewhat surprised, Klavier nodded and followed the other who, on his way, picked up a glass of wine and handed it to Klavier before moving out into a very white, very grand patio. Klavier watched, puzzled, as the elder prosecutor closed the doors and turned to him, a glass of sparkling beverage in his own hands. He had no idea what Edgeworth might want to say to him, considering they barely talked, and he was curious as to what could induce him to want to talk to Klavier in private.

"You must be wondering why I have brought you out here," Edgeworth said.

Klavier chuckled at the vocal echo of his thoughts. "Ja, Herr Edgeworth."

"Please," Edgeworth gestured at the chairs to their left. "Let's sit." Klavier obliged, seating himself opposite the other man. "You're aware, I'm sure, that I, too, was bred in Germany?" Klavier nodded. "Then you must also know that I speak the language also." Klavier nodded again, his curiosity peaked. "You see, Mr Gavin, I appreciate your helping Ema like this given the conversation you had with Mr Cavatin the night she was attacked."

Klavier was confused for a second and then, suddenly, he felt his stomach drop. He remembered the phone call, the conversation that Edgeworth was referring to… He'd spoken to Deston in German because he did not want anybody to know what they discussed. He had forgotten, at that moment, that there was one man in the room who understood German and had probably heard every word he'd said. It had been a very heated conversation – he'd insisted to Deston that he didn't find it appropriate for his girlfriend to live with him and that he was sure Ema would not want to. Of course, he'd wanted nothing more than to grab her and take her away to his apartment where he could protect her but there had been a fear of rejection, that he would see disgust in her eyes every moment of the day especially as he had believed she hated him. Nevertheless, Deston had pleaded with him and he had given in, without much effort on his friend's part.

And Edgeworth had heard it all.

"I can see you know what I'm referring to," Edgeworth said with a slight nod of the head. Klavier nodded, somewhat stiffly, as Edgeworth took a sip of his drink. "I would have been grateful that you helped Ema in any case. However, in light of this fact, I'm even more grateful to you for allowing Ema to stay with you. So, I thank you."

"Herr Edgeworth," Klavier interrupted. He didn't know why it mattered but he had to let him know that it wasn't what he thought. "You misunderstand the situation. I have – "

Edgeworth held up a hand. "Please, you don't have to explain yourself," he smiled for good measure, as if to reassure Klavier that he didn't judge him. "I understand how you would find the situation inappropriate and, in fact, I respect you for it. However, there's something else I wish to discuss – something regarding Ema." Klavier waited, his jaw clenched in tension, as Edgeworth took another sip of his drink and looked to the side. "You see, I first met Ema when she was only 16."

"16?" Klavier said, his stress replaced by surprise.

Edgeworth nodded. "Yes." He looked at Klavier. "She was a much happier person back then." Klavier frowned, wondering what Edgeworth meant and where this conversation was going.

"How did you know her?" Klavier couldn't help but ask.

"She was involved in a trial. Two, in fact," Edgeworth said.

Taken aback, Klavier placed his glass on the table before him and frowned. Something was tugging at the corner of his memory… His eyes widened as he was transported back to the day Daryan had been accused by Lamiroir. What had she said?

_'Authority figures cannot always be trusted, Gavin. I know. I was on trial once.'_

He looked at Edgeworth in shock. She had told him something so important and he'd dismissed her, coldly, cruelly and then… forgotten.

"What happened?" Klavier asked, quietly.

"Have you ever heard of the Joe Darke killings?" Edgeworth asked. Klavier shook his head, frowning. "I don't suppose it's that surprising – you would have, most probably, still been in Germany and very young." Edgeworth sat up straight now, placed his glass on the table beside Klavier's and entwined his fingers. He looked at Klavier for a moment as if assessing him for something and then he began to talk. Klavier listened, with mounting horror, to the tale of the murders Darke committed, his capture, Ema's near-fatal encounter with the killer and her testimony in the subsequent trial rife with forged evidence. His fists clenched as Edgeworth went on to explain Lana's trial, the manslaughter everyone believed Ema to be involved in and the truth behind the entire thing – Gant's mind games and corrupting the facts of the incident.

After Edgeworth was finished, Klavier sat in silence for what was, most likely, only a few minutes but felt like several hours. He was trying to process everything and several thing were going through his mind, some of which unsettled him deeply. He finally understood Ema's comments about authority figures and their trustworthiness. Somehow, the likeness in their experiences did nothing but disconcert him. Another thing that was nagging at Klavier was the phrase 'forged evidence'. He couldn't help but think of Phoenix Wright… the man they called the Forging Attorney. How could he have forged a diary paper when he, himself, helped shed light on a case involving tampered evidence? How could he have helped Ema and Lana and then gone on to commit the same crime? Klavier felt more disgusted than ever.

"My reason for divulging this information," Edgeworth said bringing Klavier out of his thoughts, "is that Ema is a very guarded person as a result. She has suffered two extremely disturbing trials after which she endured a separation from her sister while Lana was in prison. I ask that you bear this in mind."

Klavier knew what Edgeworth was saying; _be nice to Ema and get where she's coming from_. And he could do that; he _would _do that. Now he realised so much more about her – why she was always so moody and reserved, why she never joined in any festivities and why she was generally so disagreeable. Klavier finally understood Ema Skye in a way that he would not have been able to otherwise. He could be gentler with her now… he wanted to take care of her and he wanted to erase the memories of the past.

"_Danke schön_," Klavier said to Edgeworth, gratefully. And he was grateful – because now he knew more about the woman he loved.

Edgeworth inclined his head. "I ask one last thing of you, Mr Gavin." Klavier looked at him quizzically. "I ask that you not judge anyone," Edgeworth said and he sounded graver than before now. "There was forged evidence – nobody can deny that – but all is never what it seems. I am sure, as a prosecutor, you already know that."

Klavier frowned inwardly. Something told him that Edgeworth was referring to something more than just Lana Skye's mistake. He was well aware that Edgeworth and Wright were friends and it was clear that Edgeworth didn't believe his friend had forged anything. Nevertheless, Klavier was surprised at the veiled meaning of those words. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, they were interrupted.

"Miles…?" Lana was standing in the doorway, holding open the doors and looking at them quizzically. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"Not at all, Lana," Edgeworth said, picking up his glass and standing up. "Mr Gavin and I were just discussing some old cases." He turned to look at Klavier who, taking the cue, stood up with his own glass and smiled at Lana.

"Well, the last of the guests have arrived," Lana said addressing Miles. "Why don't you come in and meet them, Mr Gavin?"

"After you," Klavier said, with a smile, aware that Edgeworth was watching him. Klavier knew that Edgeworth expected him to be different towards Lana but how could he begrudge her the instinct to protect her sister? Why, if Lana hadn't done what she had, Ema might not have been here and Klavier almost shuddered at that thought. He couldn't imagine his life without her now.

So he followed her back to where all the guests were gathered and his gaze was instantly drawn to his friend – Deston was standing beside Ema, a glass in his hand and a smile on his face.

"Hey, K," Deston greeted him with a grin and Klavier nodded at him.

"Mr Gavin, I'd like you to meet Diego Armando," Lana said and Klavier looked in the direction of her waving hand. A tall Latino man stood before him, a mug in his hand that smelt strongly of coffee and a mask over his eyes. Klavier recognised him instantly.

"Herr Armando," Klavier greeted with a smile.

"Her Armando indeed," he smirked, raising the mug to his mouth. "I don't think you ever actually met _her_ though, Mr Gavin."

Klavier blinked. What on earth was the man talking about?

Lana chuckled. "Ignore him, Mr Gavin. Even I don't understand him half the time." She gestured towards a woman in a white robe and black hair standing by Phoenix. "This is Maya Fey, the Master of the Kurain Channelling Technique."

Klavier smiled at her and extended a hand to the young woman. She was quite pretty with a lively face and a wide smile. He'd heard of her but had never expected such a comely figure. "Fräulein," he said shaking her hand. "I have heard of you."

"And I hear you every day!" Maya said chirpily and when Klavier rose an eyebrow, she giggled. "My cousin is a huge fan of yours. She always has your music on around the manor."

Klavier laughed. "Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Well, I don't mind but some of the elders do get really annoyed!" Maya said cheerfully, holding her hands together. "I try to tell them we should move with the times!"

"This is good advice," Klavier said, amused, thinking he liked her.

"I wish they shared your view," she sighed.

"K!" He heard Deston's voice call.

"Excuse me," he said with a smile at her and turned around to face his friend. As he stepped away from her, he heard Maya whisper to Phoenix; "Nick, what's a fro-line?" Chuckling, he headed for his friend who was beckoning him with his hand.

"Long time, man," Deston said, smacking Klavier on the back. "You too busy to return my calls?"

Klavier glanced at Ema who was standing by him, sipping her wine and he remembered what Edgeworth had told him about her. "Actually, I – "

A clinking sound interrupted him and he turned to see Lana putting down the spoon she'd been tapping her glass with. Edgeworth was standing by her side. A hush spread over all the chattering people as they turned towards the couple to listen to whatever they had to say. Klavier glanced at Ema and was surprised to see the excitement on her face and he smiled. She looked happy – and he liked that. She deserved to be happy. Again, his mind turned to all that he'd found out about her and he could not believe that she'd kept such an important part of her life so close to her chest and remained so strong. How could he have missed it? How could he have simply forgotten what she'd let slip not once, but twice? Klavier wanted to bang his head against something.

"First, I know a lot of you have really busy schedules so thank you for taking the time to come," Lana said smiling at everyone and Klavier suppressed his thoughts, deciding he would think on it in his own time, without distractions. This simply was not the best place to become so thoughtful. "What I have to say is pretty important and I wanted all of you guys to be here so it means a lot." There was an outbreak of muttering as everyone she was addressing smiled back at her. "Again, thank you."

"Come on, bambina," A man among them called out. "This here mystery's gettin' mighty frustrating," he drawled. Everyone laughed.

Lana was smiling at him. "Okay then, Jake. Miles and I are getting married." There was a silence for a split second and then they were all converging on the pair offering their congratulations among many 'it's about time' and 'I knew it's. Klavier saw Ema rush past him with a huge smile on her face and one made its way on his face too when he saw her push her way through the crowd and throw her arms around her sister, pulling her in a hug before turning to Edgeworth and doing the same to him. Klavier chuckled when he saw the surprise on the man's face at her affectionate gesture.

"It's cute how much she adores Lana," Deston said from behind him and Klavier glanced at his friend as he came to stand by him.

"Ja," Klavier nodded. "It is refreshing to see such strong sibling bonds."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Deston look at him and he mentally kicked himself for making a comment that sounded so obviously depressing. He had just managed to get Deston to leave him alone and now he'd probably alarmed him again. Klavier wondered, as he lifted his glass to his lips, what Deston would do if he found out Klavier had almost… Well, he didn't know, and Klavier didn't want to think about that because it only reminded him of Gale which reminded him of Rafael and –

He shook himself mentally. No, he didn't want to think about it but it was damn difficult. Klavier had heard of Rafael's nature but he had not been prepared for how potent the power of his words was. He was left wondering what else Kristoph had told Rafael and why. Defending a criminal was one thing but to practically _befriend_ one…

"I propose a toast!" Deston said loudly from next to him and Klavier looked at him; he was holding up his glass and had everyone's attention. He faced the couple who were both smiling at him. "Let the angels sing on this – your engagement! Let them sing of your happiness and choosing and may their song forever shower down upon you both!"

"Hear, hear!" everyone murmured and raised their own glasses. Klavier saw Lana beam at Deston – she obviously loved her sister's boyfriend.

"Thank you, Mr Cavatin," Edgeworth said in his deeply quiet voice. "That is gracious."

"Thank you, Deston," Lana said with a radiant smile.

"Speaking of songs," Deston said and he turned to Klavier. "Why don't you sing one for the happy couple?"

"_Was zur H…_" Klavier caught himself as he remembered that Deston was not the only person in the room who understood German. Taking a discreet breath, he smiled at everyone. "I would be honoured but I am afraid that none of our songs are appropriate for an engagement, Deston. You are aware of this."

"Why don't you just make it up as you go," Deston suggested. "You're good at that!" He turned to everyone else and smiled. "Klavier's talented in more ways than one! I've seen him invent lyrics on the spot!" They all seemed to find this impressive and Klavier resisted the urge to roll his eyes and maintain the smile on his face when he saw some of the women in the crowd go nuts. Deston turned back to him and Klavier glared at him although his friend seemed not to notice. "Come on, give us a performance."

Klavier knew that to decline would be rude but it was more to do with the look on Ema's face – she looked somewhat… hopeful? When he saw her face, he knew he couldn't say no so, with a smile, he turned to everyone and nodded; taking that as a yes, they all cheered. Amid the chaos he turned to Deston.

"_Drecksau,_" he hissed. "I have no instrument upon my per – "

"Lighten up," Deston laughed. "I have a guitar in my car."

Klavier's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How very convenient."

"You take your instruments everywhere with you, why can't I?" Deston said with a mischievous glint in his eyes and before Klavier could respond he'd turned to address everyone. "Just need to get the things from my car. Make yourselves comfortable for one of the best performances by Klavier Gavin!" And with these words, he jogged away leaving behind a seething Klavier and a worked up crowd. Klavier had a nasty feeling that Deston had known what the occasion was and had intentionally brought his instruments. He didn't know what Deston was thinking, putting him on the spot like this when he had not a single appropriate song for a party such as this, but two could play at that game.

He watched as everyone seated themselves, readying themselves for the performance that Klavier was dreading – yes, he'd invented lyrics on the spot before but not an _entire song_. He had a few minutes now though and he spent them rummaging his head for discarded songs he'd never used and piecing some of the lines together, clenching his fist when he was unable to make it work. He saw everyone watching him and he smiled just as Deston walked back in through the door carrying one of the guitars Klavier used sometimes during their rehearsals. He handed it to him with a wink as he dropped a pick in his bandaged hand.

"Good luck," Deston muttered with a devilish smile.

"_Du bist als Nächste,_" Klavier said, looking down at the guitar, but Deston simply chuckled as he seated himself in a nearby chair. Klavier looked up at everyone and flashed a grin at them. "Achtung baby! Let's rock!" They all cheered and he took his place upon the stool Deston placed beside him before looking around at Lana and Edgeworth. "For Herr Edgeworth and the lovely Fräulein Skye… You are ensnared in the relentless net of love – may you forever remain prisoners of this perfection!"

Everyone murmured in agreement and the couple stared at Klavier with identical smiles. Klavier winked at them and, as he adjusted his guitar, he glanced at Ema. She was watching him with a curious expression and Klavier couldn't understand it or maybe he just didn't have enough of a mind left to try and figure it out – his body was warming up, his fingers tingling and something inside of him was bubbling, waiting to burst forth and he wondered what he'd been worried about when all the inspiration that he ever needed was in this room, with him.

He took the pick in between his undamaged fingers and ran it across the strings to test its sound. He glanced at Ema once more before closing his eyes, like he always did when he played, and he was silent for a moment as he chose two melodies he'd played before and combined them; his finger's danced across the guitar and the room was filled with an up-tempo composition. Before his mind's eye flew visual manifestations of a memory that he would always cherish; the day he met her. He'd exited his new office and found himself thrown off-balance by a small figure in white with the most mesmerising green eyes…

"_With a stumble you fell into my arms, and baby with one look in your eyes…"_

Klavier almost jumped at the sound of his own voice – it wasn't his anymore…

"_My soul was entranced by your charms, forever fated to be my demise…_"

He recalled their interchange in the hallway before the concert and he saw the fierce look of embarrassment when she'd pushed him away and his fingers sped their dance on the strings as the volume of his song rose.

"_You can push me away but I'll always be here," _his eyes opened against his will and sought out her beautiful face. "_And these games you play, just bring me near..." _He forced his eyes shut again. "'_Cos baby…"_

His fingers weren't obeying him anymore either – he was the slave now and as the music reached a crescendo, he didn't know where the words came from…

"_You are the truth and the dream too… you are my river and my thirst too…" _Again, his eyes found her and the next words were lost in the intertwining blue and green of their gaze; "_You are my hearts restlessness and my heart's content too…_"

He brought down the veil of nothingness over his sight but her image was branded in his mind and, behind the darkness of his closed eyes, he saw her – the way she always glanced at him as she passed, glaring at him when he smiled…

"_Oh baby, every moment I long to see, the secret of love in your gaze... And when you walk by me…" _He could have sworn the strings were now commanding his fingers… "_Every fibre of my being sings in praise…_"

And there she was again, floating before him, and now he had no idea if his eyes were open or not – but it didn't matter. All that mattered was he could watch her smiling at him, blushing at the meaning of his words as if she knew who they were for…

"_And girl, you can deny me for as long as you like…"_

The tempo increased with his voice as he let all of his determination flow into his words…

"_But baby, don't you see I'm just waiting to strike?_"

He thought he heard a few whoops and squeals but he was too entranced in the music and the story it told – she was working her magic on him… She must be…

"_Cos__ baby… you are the truth and the dream too… you are my river and my thirst too… you are my heart's restlessness and my hearts content too…"_

How could he honestly have doubted his ability to do this? She was all the inspiration he needed. She was the woman who occupied his every thought, who commanded his every action without knowing it… He was wrenched awake from dreams of her and dragged back into them longing for her…

"_In you each dream starts, as the real world dies…"_ his eyes opened again and it kept all his willpower to keep them fixed on his guitar. "_The real world dies…_" With inhumane strength, he closed them again… "_Without you, I fall apart, upon every sunrise…"_

And in all the performances he'd given, none matched the adrenaline that flooded him now, driven by the fiercest resolve that his next words would come true. Power was rushing through him, escaping his fingers, flowing into the instrument and he heard the harmonious voice of his determination – it was sweeping across the room, the music riding the space around him…

"_Girl, I'll win this game you began, and I'll claim your heart as my prize…" _And he'd forgotten where he was… He was staring at her again, uncaring of who saw the love burning in his eyes… "_And baby, I'll be the richest man to live and die beneath these skies… 'Cos baby…"_

And the music and her gaze and his strength was taking him onto some higher plane and his body tensed, his eyes closed as he tried to let it all go, to release this intense power overtaking him…

"_You are the truth and the dream too… you are my river and my thirst too… you are my heart's restlessness and my heart's content too…"_

And he could feel it leaving his body as his voice mellowed on his last words and something was slowly bringing him back down…

"_Cos baby… baby…"_

He saw the slight brush that had crept over her skin and he smiled.

"_You are my journey and my destination too…"_

There followed a few minutes in which he continued to play, the music filling the silence of the room and he continued to stare at Ema. His sanity was returning and he thanked his lucky stars when he saw that Ema was standing beside Lana – they would all assume he had been watching the couple. For good measure, he swept his gaze over everyone with a grin. He saw many smiles, blushes – the expressions he was used to in a concert. When he struck his last note, he raised a hand, as was his habit after a performance, and they all broke out in applause punctuated by many whoops and screams.

"Knew you could do it, man!" Deston said, clapping him on the back and smiling at him. Klavier smirked at him, not annoyed anymore, but not willing to let him get away with what he'd done either.

"Time to rock with Deston," he called out above the clapping and laughed when they cheered. He turned back to Deston who was simply grinning at him.

"Nice, K," he said laughingly, taking the guitar Klavier was handing him. "But I'm ready for you."

Klavier laughed too and, with a wink, got off the stool gesturing towards it. "It is all yours." He moved to the side as Deston took the limelight and started speaking to everyone. Klavier wasn't paying attention though – his eyes had sought out Ema once more and he felt a jolt when he saw her look away quickly, clearly embarrassed at being caught looking at him. A smile spread to his lips again and he mentally gave himself a pat on the back for his performance – he'd done well and nobody seemed to have noticed the way he'd stared at her throughout his performance. Not to mention, he seemed to have got her attention…

"_Darling, it's my desire to let it all go, to break free of these bonds and show…"_

Deston's song broke through his thoughts and Klavier looked at his fellow musician; he had no doubt that his song was also for Ema. As could be expected of Deston, he was not looking at her or communicating with her in any way. Klavier rolled his eyes at Deston's old-fashioned ways. There was no shame in proclaiming one's love for another in public. This was one thing about Deston that Klavier could never understand. Unwilling to stand and watch this, because he knew the images it would invoke, Klavier slipped away, out through some nearby doors, and walked out onto a veranda that overlooked the lake. It was dark now and Klavier could see the stars creeping across the black canopy of the sky, their twinkling lights reflected in the water below. He sighed deeply.

"So you like your coffee with a spoonful of sugar, huh?"

Klavier turned towards the sound of the voice and, just then, Diego Armando halted to a stop beside him. He was still holding a mug in his hand and while he was facing the lake, Klavier could not say for certain that the eyes beneath that mask weren't staring at him.

"What?" Klavier said, confused.

"The scent of coffee is unmistakable," the ex-prosecutor said taking a swallow of it. "Even the inexperienced can recognise it."

Klavier frowned, trying to make sense of what he was doing. He'd heard of this man's somewhat strange affection for the beverage but this was quite something else. He didn't know whether to ask him what he was talking about or to just leave it. He knew he would probably get even more confusing answers if he tried to ask so Klavier simply remained quiet. It appeared Diego wasn't going to say anything else as they stood in silence, watching the water as it rippled but then Diego shifted and Klavier saw the glaring red lights of his mask facing his way and he could not ignore him; he looked at Diego, about to say something but the other spoke first;

"It's too early in life to grow wrinkles, Mr Gavin," he said, his deep voice low. "If you love a kitten, you tell her." Klavier did a double take at the words and he saw Diego cock his head back with a grin. Unbidden, an image of Phoenix tilting his head back in the same manner came to Klavier's mind. "I told you, didn't I? Even the inexperienced can recognise the scent of coffee. For the experienced…" His smirk grew as he lifted the mug as if in a toast and took a big gulp.

Klavier finally understood the coffee references and he chided himself for not remembering what had been dubbed as Coffeenese; just after his trial against Phoenix Wright, the press had been going crazy with the story of Diego Armando and one of his most endearing traits (to the public at least), had been his coffee addiction and his use of it in his metaphors.

Klavier turned back to Deston but he was tense now and his attention was still on the man beside him.

"She is in a relationship," Klavier said. He knew there was no point denying it – Diego Armando was no fool.

"That didn't seem to stop you from singing to her."

"Singing is very different to professing my feelings to her," Klavier said sharply. Diego, however, simply chuckled. "If I _were_ to say anything to her, it would be once she is single."

"Ha…!" Klavier looked at Diego, surprised at this reaction. "Leave a good cup of coffee out for too long and it becomes cold."

Klavier refrained from sighing in exasperation. "Meaning?"

"Meaning that it becomes undrinkable," Diego said, vague as ever. "How different is life, really, from a good old cup of coffee?" Klavier chose not to comment on that. "Time is like money – you've got to be careful how you spend it… but penny-pinching never did anybody any favours either."

"You're saying…" Klavier started but trying to think about it all just confused him again.

"Nothing waits forever," Diego said and there was an underlying current of sorrow in his voice. The knuckles of the hand that held the mug turned white and he turned those glaring red lights to him again. "I can promise you that, Mr Gavin"

Klavier looked away from Diego, realising the man was thinking of his own lost lover. "I was sorry… for your loss." When he first heard of Diego's case, Klavier had not taken well to the fact that he had murdered a woman no matter what he had been through. He had been disgusted by the reaction of the masses. But now… Everything was different.

He was different.

"Ha…!" Diego drank deeply from his mug again. "You're not what I expected."

"What?" Klavier asked, surprised.

"You are the attorney who got Wright disbarred. So, of course, I had to know more."

Klavier stiffened. "Herr Wright got himself barred."

"Still got a grudge against Wright, huh?" Diego asked and drank his coffee again. When Klavier didn't reply, Diego set his coffee down on the wall beside him and leant against it, staring at the water. "So did I, you know."

"The circumstances are different," Klavier said curtly.

"Ha…!" Diego smirked and Klavier scowled inwardly at the sound – he was getting sick of it. "You met Maya in there, didn't you?"

"Ja." Klavier nodded.

"You know that, when her sister died, Wright took it upon himself to look after her?"

"Herr Armando," Klavier said, turning to the Latino. "If you are going to justify what he did by using Ms Fey, then I – "

"My blend number 159 isn't fit for the gutter if it's even one minute early," Diego cut across him. Klavier frowned, trying to make sense of this latest riddle. "I'm not justifying anyone, my melodic friend." When Diego was certain Klavier wasn't going to interrupt him, he continued. "I'm certain that you've heard of the Engarde case. It was one of Wright's biggest trials." When Klavier nodded, Diego smirked. "Then it's even more surprising you still suspect him of forgery."

"What do you mean?" Klavier said, annoyed that Diego insisted on pursuing this subject. He knew he could just turn around and walk away but there was a part of Klavier that was intrigued by this man and what he had to say.

"Wright fought until the bitter end," Diego said and he wasn't smiling anymore. "He even had something akin to a breakdown when he thought he'd failed and, in turn, cost Maya her life. It was last minute evidence retrieved by a certain prosecutor that saved her – and this certain prosecutor also bore a grudge against him. There was no opportunity for foul play – she would never have helped him forge anything."

Klavier raised an eyebrow. "Please get to the point, Herr Armando."

"My question for you, Mr Gavin," Diego was smirking again. "Is how can a man who did not forge evidence to save the person who meant so much to him, ever forge a diary page to maintain a perfect win record?"

Klavier had no response to that. It was unthinkable, unimaginable, _incredible… _but he had nothing to say to that.

And somewhere inside, in a secret place, unease curled in him.

Suddenly, the doors behind them flew open with a bang and Franziska stood on the threshold with a hand on her hip and a whip at her side. She pointed a finger at them and scowled.

"What are you two fools doing out here?" She demanded.

"Well, nice seeing you again, princess," Diego smirked at her, taking up his coffee from the wall once more. "Still playing with the big boys?"

Franziska scowled and turned to Klavier. "Lana Skye is calling for you. If you'd stayed inside, I wouldn't have to chase you down," she snapped, cracking her whip again. With one last disgusted look at Diego, she turned on her heel and walked back inside. Klavier followed suit, smiling at her behaviour, finding it somewhat cute that she was clearly intimidated by Diego Armando. He glanced over his shoulder to see if the man was following but found that he was staring out at the water again. Klavier left him in silence, knowing that he probably needed a moment; he had an idea what Diego was thinking about.

Upon entering he saw, what looked like, a commotion; Edgeworth's face was almost the same colour as his clothes as he stared at Larry who was talking loudly to everyone.

"…man, he was sobbing for a whole day!"

"Be quiet already!" Edgeworth snapped, completely unlike himself and Klavier stopped to stare at them, his eyes wide. "I'll never forget the shame of that day!"

"See? See?" Larry cried, gleefully, at everyone. "What'd I tell you!"

"You want a crane!" Edgeworth's voice was rising. "I can now make a perfect quarter-inch crane without a single flaw!"

"…Prove it."

"W-What?"

"I said prove it," Larry said, his arms folded.

"Well, that's… there isn't any… THIS IS NOT THE TIME!" Edgeworth exploded and Klavier folded his arms, rubbing a hand across his jaw in a bid to hide his grin. "This – why you… WRIGHT!" Edgeworth turned to Phoenix who turned and smiled at Maya.

"Maya?"

Maya grinned and looked past Klavier. "Diego?"

Klavier glanced over his shoulder to see the man drinking his coffee. At the sound of his name, Diego smirked.

"Ha…! What do ya say, princess?"

Franziska was already pulling on her whip, a gleam in her eye. "My whip was made for foolish fool's fools." With this dramatic proclamation, she marched towards Larry who, eyes wide with fear, spun on the spot to escape the three-course meal of whip-leather headed his way.

"Don't you dare run away from me!" She said and her voice was loud enough to be heard over the raucous laughter of the crowd. Larry ran past Edgeworth shouting, "What the hey, Edgey!" As she followed him, Franziska paused for a second, glaring at Edgeworth, before promptly whipping him.

"Whaaagh!" Edgeworth yelped

"Unable to make a crane!" She snapped. "You are a disgrace! A von Karma strives for perfection! You have demonstrated, once again, why you are unworthy of the name!" Without waiting for a response, she continued after Larry, her shouts drowned by the roars of laughter that had overtaken the room.

"Nngh…" Edgeworth spun on Wright with the evil eye but whatever fury he'd been about to unleash on his friend was forgotten as Larry ran into the room again, through another set of double doors, followed swiftly by Franziska.

"Come back here!" she shrieked.

"Duuuuuuuuude!" Larry shouted as he weaved in and out of the amused crowd. "Do something!" Just as he passed Ema, Klavier saw her pelt him with a handful of Snackoos she'd produced from nowhere. "What the hey!"

Klavier's laughter was as loud as everyone's this time, his mirth born from the expression on Ema's face. He was certain she'd been wanting to do that since the moment Larry had got in her face and she now looked thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Mr Gavin," Lana was by his side suddenly and her face was shining from the laughter that had consumed her too. "I'm sorry to ask this of you but I feel Ema should rest. I was hoping that you could take her home."

Klavier inclined his head. "Of course, Fräulein."

"I apologise again. I feel it's awfully rude of me to – " Lana started, guilt marring her beautiful features, but Klavier held up a hand.

"Please, Fräulein… Ema's health is the priority. I have enjoyed myself…" He paused and they chuckled as Larry could be heard crying in the distance. "However, I do have much work to do."

Lana smiled and, saying her thanks, turned to look at Ema. Klavier watched as Ema heard her named being called and smiled at Lana, holding up a finger. She looked around at everyone and, catching sight of the one she was searching for, ran up to him. Klavier watched, with rising jealousy, as Ema put her slender hand on Deston's forearm. He looked at her with a smile and she laid a hand on his neck to pull him down to her level; she whispered something in his ear and Klavier's fist clenched. Deston seemed surprised and he turned to look her in the eyes. The next moment, Klavier's world rocked and the monster of insanity roared in his chest as Ema wrapped her arms around Deston's neck and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

* * *

Drecksau - dirty pig

Du bist als Nächste - you're next

Waz zur H... - what the h...


	17. Saviour

"You better enjoy these precious moments of freedom," Ema whispered in Deston's ear. "Because they're the last you'll have_."_ Deston turned to look at her and she was pleased to see she'd caught him off-guard; he looked stunned. She wrapped a hand around his neck, knowing many were watching, and pulled him down until their lips were millimetres apart. She looked up into his surprised eyes and smirked. "_It's going to take more than a thug to stop me, Mr Cavatin_."

Ema was thoroughly enjoying the expression on his face – it had morphed into outright shock. She had him and she had him good – for good measure, she pulled him down into a kiss. The moment they touched, her body screamed at her to push him away, to slap him, to punch him, scratch him, knee him in the groin… She wanted to do anything but what she was forcing herself to do here. She wanted to shock him into silence, she wanted him to take her seriously, to know what she wasn't going to skulk away like a coward and hide in a corner and let him do whatever he had planned. She was certain he had expected her to back down and she had played the part well; she had remained quiet throughout the evening and answered his questions, spoken when only when spoken to. And a part of her had been shaken by what he'd done in retaliation to her confrontation with him but, tonight, all that had changed. She'd regained her strength because of –

"Ema?" Lana called again. She pulled away quickly and, shooting one last glance at Deston's staggered expression, she made her way amid the whoops and squeals (and she was sure, a few curses from some of the women). She smiled at the whoopers and refused to glance back at her 'boyfriend'. She looked at her sister instead and the man stood next to her. As soon as Ema's eyes landed on Klavier, and her heart suddenly skipped a beat; his expression was inscrutable and he was smiling.

"Mr Gavin has agreed to take you home, Ema," Lana said with a fond smile at Klavier who chuckled.

"Fräulein, I think it would be quite alright if you called me Klavier," he said, eyeing her with amusement.

"Very well," Lana laughed. "_Klavier's _ready to take you home."

Ema took a deep breath and looked up at him again and that emotion overwhelmed her again. Why did his gaze on her feel so heavy all of a sudden? Why did the nearness of him make her want to run toward him and away from him at the same time?

"Are you sure?" she asked, somewhat timidly.

When his gaze turned toward her, she thought she saw a glimmer of anger in his eyes but it was gone so suddenly that she was sure she'd imagined it. He offered her a small smile and nodded.

"I have work to do, in any case," Klavier said and Ema's heart sank a little. Wouldn't he have wanted to take her otherwise?

Ema shook herself mentally, astonished at what was going through her head. Since when did his decisions affect her emotionally? Since when did she want to spend time with him? He was her boss – no – her _fop _of a boss! A glimmerous fop!

And yet… Ema marvelled at her own thoughts. Yet… her eyes were roaming his face and… how had she not noticed the dazzling blue of his eyes? She'd always thought of them as twinkling with mischief but now…

"Ema?"

She started at the voice and smiled at her sister and shook her head, waving a hand about. "Sorry – I think I'm more tired than I realised."

"Come, let us get you home," Klavier said and, to her surprise, he placed a hand on the small of her back. She almost jumped and, if he noticed her reaction, he didn't show it. "Congratulations on your engagement, Lana."

"Thank you for coming, Klavier," Lana said. "And your performance was amazing. It made my evening."

Klavier inclined his head. "It is my pleasure and an honour."

Ema was silent as he turned and waved to Deston and a few others; she had lost her voice and she suspected it had something to do with his hand pressed lightly against her back. She felt she had lost control of a situation she didn't know she was in – how could she fix something when she didn't even know what was wrong? She allowed him to lead her, in a daze, and it wasn't long before she felt the cool night air sweep around her and she shivered. Just as she was wishing she had brought a coat with her, she felt something warm snake around her and she jumped. Looking down at what it was, her eyes widened; his fingers had wrapped themselves around her arm and were slowly rubbing her skin. She glanced up at him, shocked, and saw that he was smiling at her.

"You are cold, ja?" he asked and she nodded, unable to respond vocally. "We are almost to the car."

Ema still didn't answer. What the hell was wrong with her? She sneaked a glance at him from the corner of her eye and saw that he was just looking ahead now. She wanted to say something – a 'thank you, a 'sorry', _anything_… but she couldn't. And his fingers rubbing against her bare skin wasn't helping the situation. It was as though, like a chemical, she was reacting to him but not the way she should. Why?

What had changed in her?

She knew that something inside of her had changed. She'd felt it. She'd found strength she didn't know she had. All of the fear born of her knowledge of Deston's nature had suddenly been washed away; like the unsuspected sand overtaken and swept away by the relentless tide of the sea, she felt purified of something dirty.

And it was all because of him.

Klavier.

Ema didn't understand it… When he'd sat on that stool, when he'd begun playing his guitar and his voice had mingled with the music, something had stirred inside her. It had both saddened her and made her happy… When he'd sung, it had been different from his concerts somehow. Yes, the music was different, he was singing alone and the lyrics weren't in the usual style – they were _normal. _But it was more than that – it had been so special. It had felt as though he'd been singing to her. She had felt something inside of her growing and every glance he threw at her had only intensified the feeling. It had given her the courage she needed to say to Deston what she had, to promise him his own demise.

But what was this other feeling?

Her hand rose to her lips and she rubbed them, subconsciously, as she recalled kissing Deston. She closed her eyes in protest at the memory and she felt miserable. Klavier must have seen her. She didn't know why it mattered that he had – only that it did. Her heart was sinking until she was sure it was going to slide through her feet and into the ground where it would erode into nothingness. She felt disgusted with herself and she wanted to bite her lips until they bled as a punishment for pressing them against the ones of the man who was trying to hurt the one she…

She what?

"My lady," Klavier said, holding the door open for her. Startled, she looked at his smiling face before getting in and allowing him to shut the door for her. A few seconds later, he was in the car beside her and inserting his key into the ignition. Ema stared at him, noting the stark contrast between his skin and the whiteness of his shirt. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked, and she looked away quickly when he turned to her, cursing herself for allowing him to catch her staring at him for the second time that night. Wordlessly, she nodded. "And the performance?"

"It was one of your best," she said and then her eyes widened. Oh, _now_, her voice was back. _Now_, she could talk. But it was the memory of the song that had spurred her into talking. Ema knew that she would remember it for the rest of her life… She knew she would treasure that memory, cherish the feelings that had swept through her when his voice had filled the room. Never could she forget the way it seemed to have ran along the nerves of her being, sending her spiralling into an emotional oblivion.

"_Danke._" He sounded surprised when he spoke.

Neither of them spoke again and the drive passed in silence. Ema wondered what had him so quiet – he was usually so vocal about his thoughts. And then, she chided herself for being an idiot. Didn't she spend half her life wishing he would shut up?

_So what the hell was wrong with her now?_

"Klavier?" she said and her body jerked involuntarily at the unexpected sound of her own voice.

"Ja, Fräulein?" he said and she heard the smile in his voice.

_Now what, genius? Speaking before thinking… Isn't that what almost got you killed? Why don't you learn from your mistake?_

"I'm sorry for…" she took a deep breath. "For being a burden."

"Ema," Klavier sighed and he was shaking his head but she barely noticed – her heart had skipped a beat at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. "You always say the most ludicrous of things." She blushed at the exasperation in his voice and wished she hadn't said anything. "You have never been a burden and I doubt you ever will be."

She didn't know what to say to that except, "Thank you."

The remainder of the car ride was spent in small talk about the party; he did most of the talking while she simply nodded, giving one or two-word answers as she tried to ignore the feeling that was numbing her senses. Every time silence filled the car, his song echoed in her ears as if he was singing again and Ema had to look at him to see if his lips were moving. She wondered if she was going nutty – there was no other way to explain the madness that seemed to be taking over her.

When they reached the building that housed his penthouse suite, Klavier's arm was around her again and she jumped noticeably, not expecting the contact. Her mind kept going blank, giving in to the bizarre sensations that seemed to keep attacking her. He chuckled at her reaction.

"You are safe with me, _liebling_."

"I know," was the answer that fell from her mouth unbidden, unexpected. This time, however, Ema wasn't surprised – she'd realised that she had long lost control of that particular part of her body. So, instead, she allowed herself to be led up to their – no, _his _– apartment. It was only once they were within the warm confines of the penthouse that he eventually let go and Ema fancied that the area of her arm he had been touching had become colder than the rest of her body at the separation. Ema stood in the same spot, a few feet ahead of the door, rubbing her arms with her hand. And she watched.

She examined the way he casually threw his keys on a small table and switched the lamp on. She observed him as he moved across to the other side and flicked another switch to enable the heating. With each little action, Ema noticed the way his fingers moved confidently, the expression that crossed his face, the litheness of his body, the speed of his pace…

And then he was looking at her again but this time, she didn't avert her gaze; there was power radiating from him and she could feel him pulling her in, commanding her to come to him and she wasn't sure she could deny him…

"Are you alright?" Klavier said and then, to her horror, he moved toward her. Her body reacted instantly by moving backwards and she saw him stop, confusion creeping onto his face. "Ema?"

"I have… I don't…" Ema gulped and she saw him frown. He must be thinking I'm insane, she thought. She didn't blame him – she was positive she was. What else would explain her behaviour?

"Fräulein?" Klavier said, and he took a step toward her cautiously, but Ema wasn't paying attention. What was going on inside her? She had barely drank a glass of wine, she hadn't taken any medication today… So why could she hear his voice singing when his lips weren't moving? Why could she feel him when he was standing nowhere near her? Why was every part of her vibrating with this feeling? She looked at him again.

When she saw his unblemished skin, she knew that it was the remedy for her tingling fingers. She glanced at his half-raised hand, as if he was going to touch her, and she knew what her humming body was longing for. Her eyes found his lips and she knew why her mouth had gone dry.

And her heart exploded with realisation.

Just as her legs crumbled from under her, Klavier shouted, "Ema!" and then suddenly his arms were around her, and she felt herself being lifted up into the air. What had she been thinking? What foolishness had induced her to let her defences down? What was she going to do now? How could she have ever allowed herself to…

"Ema! Answer me!" Klavier's voice caught her attention and the panic in it caused a pang in her heart. She didn't want to cause him any distress…

"I'm okay," she mumbled and she tried to focus on the blurry shape before her until it sharpened into his face. Her hands fluttered around her and she realised he'd laid her on the sofa. She tried to pull herself into a sitting position, her face flushing when his hands came around her to help. She wanted to take his hands in hers, to hold them and kiss them… and this thought brought tears to her eyes because she knew she couldn't.

"I am calling the _Doktor_," he said she saw him stand up to pull his phone out of his pocket but her hand automatically reached out and grabbed his. Ema thought, for a split second, it had convinced him but then she saw that she'd just caught him by surprised. He stared at their hands for a few seconds and then his own fingers curled around hers and he crouched down before her and looked into her face. All of a sudden, Ema wanted to push him away and run into her bedroom and lock herself in until she regained her sanity.

"What is it, Ema?" he murmured. "Why are there tears in your eyes?"

Ema broke down.

She never cried in front of anyone – it was something she could never do, even if she wanted to, but the concern in his voice and the caring words had snapped her control and she couldn't hold it back anymore. Again, it was as though the dam broke and an awful feeling washed over, suffocating her and taking her under, crushing her with its lethal pressure…

"Ema…" Klavier murmured and suddenly, he was sat beside her, holding her as she cried into his arms. Somehow it didn't make sense for her to cry in the arms of the reason for her tears and yet it felt perfectly right. She closed her eyes against the confusion, resting her head against his chest, letting his hand run through her hair. "You're safe, Ema," he said reassuringly. "You're safe here."

And the words that were meant to be comforting, made her realise how unsafe she actually was – she was crying in the arms of the man she was in love with and he had no idea.

Why was she letting him hold her when it was doing nothing but making her long for him more?

"I'm fine," she said, pulling away and wiping the tears that had frozen on her cheeks. "Sorry. I'm just tired."

"Ema, there is no sh – "

"I'm fine," she cut across him curtly. "Could you move your hand?"

He didn't oblige straight away; his fingers lingered on her back and then, just as she was about to repeat her request, they drifted away. She suddenly felt hollow and cold and it took all of her willpower to refrain from crying again. So, instead, she stood up and, without looking back at him, walked to her bedroom, muttering a 'goodnight'. She managed to hold her tears back long enough to close her door, lock it and collapse onto her bed and then they were flowing again.

How could she have let a damn song do this to her? How could she have fallen in love with him just because of a song? He was a singer, an _artist_, it was his _job _to sing and just because he had cast her a few glances and a smile and sung a few words that reflected their first meeting, she'd allowed herself to hope that maybe, _maybe_, he felt something for her. So what if he did? Was she so willing to give away her sanity for a little something?

_Yes._

She froze at the response.

_You're willing because you know that you loved him long before the damn song. _

"What…?" Her voice was barely audible.

_It's normal to risk your life, the way you have, for your boss is it? It's normal to feel jealous at the thought of him being with another woman? _

"No…" she whispered in denial.

_It's normal to cry because your boss might hate you, is it? It's normal to respond to his touch, is it? Normal, is it, to notice the features of his face in so much detail? Normal, that you worry about his feelings? Normal to fly into a rage because he avoids you? Normal that your blood boils every time you remember Deston and Daryan bad-mouthing Klavier? Normal that your heart almost stops at the sight of his bandaged hand? Normal, is it, that you're willing to risk your life for him without a second thought? _

_Is it?_

"But…"

_No BUTS, Ema! Enough is enough! How long are you going to run from the truth? Where's your logic now? Where's your science now? Is it any wonder you couldn't pass your damn forensics exam when you can't even understand yourself? You're brave enough to threaten the man who's tried to kill you but you don't have the courage to face the truth! What sort of bravery is that?_

"He'll never love me this way…" she whispered to herself, brokenly. "Why would he?"

_So what? Since when did loving someone become conditional? Are you naïve enough to think every one who has ever loved has been loved back?_

"No."

_You can still love him. You can be there for him. You can protect him. Or are you too weak and selfish?_

"No."

_Is your heartbreak more important than his safety? Is your sorrow more important than his friendship? _

"No."

_Then be his friend._

"I will."

_Be his shield._

"I will."

_Love him._

"I will."

* * *

_He was standing ankle deep in the water, staring out at the sea. The light of the dying sun reflected off him and she was awed by the sight of him. She had known he was perfect but bathed in the glow of the sunset, Ema saw that she had never really appreciated his beauty. She called to him, wanting him to turn around so she could see his face fully, to commit it to memory in this golden light but he didn't turn. She called again and then he shifted and her heart leapt at the thought that, any second now, she would be looking into his eyes, seeing him smirk at her in that endearingly irritating manner he always did…_

_But he didn't. Instead, he took a step further into the sea and she frowned. What…? And then, when he didn't stop moving, horror swept through her as she realised what he was doing._

"_Klavier!" she screamed. "What the hell are you doing?"_

_And still he didn't stop – he was knee deep in water and Ema made to move forward but she couldn't. She looked down at her legs and saw she was knee deep in the sand. Terrified, she looked up at Klavier and screamed his name again but it was as though he couldn't hear her…_

"_Ema." She was looking into eyes blacker than the night, skin darker than honey, a face she didn't recognise… "Save him."_

"_I can't move!" she cried. "Please stop him, please he – "_

"_I cannot."_

"_Please!" she screamed. "Stop him – KLAVIER! KLAVIER DON'T!"_

"_You are holding yourself back, Ema," the spectre behind her said. "Let go and save him. Save him…"_

"_KLAVIER!"_

Ema gasped, her eyes flying open. It took her a moment to remember where she was as she sat up and she looked this way and that, expecting to see Klavier drowning himself. However, when she saw her four walls and felt the satin of her bed sheets, she knew everything was okay. She'd just had a nightmare. It was okay. Everything was fine.

She fell back into her pillow and sighed, running a hand through her hair which, she now noticed, was damp. In fact, she was sweating – her body was clammy and she was shaking. Sitting up and throwing her duvet aside, Ema rubbed her temples. She glanced at the clock which told it was just after 1 AM.

"Great," she murmured. She walked to the window and opened it, letting the cool air wash over her but it's presence made her aware of her own thirst. Rolling her eyes irritably at the demands of her body, she walked to the door, not bothering to throw on a robe. She padded across the room in the dark and opened the refrigerator, looking for something cool to drink. She pulled out a bottle of water and just as she made to close the door, something glinted to her right. When she saw a figure sat on the sofa, Ema jumped backwards her heart racing, thinking it was her attacker again, but then she saw the chain and took a deep breath.

"What are you still doing up, Klavier?"

He didn't respond and she frowned, wondering if he was ignoring her. She peered into his face as she approached him and when her eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the room, she realised that he'd fallen asleep in this position. Her fingers stopped short of touching his shoulder when she took a good look at his face. Gently placing the bottle on the floor, she tip-toed to the window where she threw open the curtains. Turning around, she saw his face bathed in moonlight and she was taken aback by the expression on his face. She slid into the space beside him, careful not to wake him, and then she studied.

She had never seen this look on his face before – it was an utterly defenceless expression. The contour of his face was undisturbed and she saw so many things she never had before: the way his lips naturally curved up at the corners and that his lower lip was fuller than the top, seductively inviting. She had always noticed the twinkle in his eyes but now that they were closed, she could see the way they were evenly spaced and curved inwards. She had always known that his jaw was sharp but now… in the shadows cast by the moonlight, his face looked as though it had been chiselled out of stone. In that moment, with no fear of being teased for studying him, Ema saw a thousand and one things she never would have otherwise.

But she also wondered, that if he was at peace now and this was his relaxed face, why had she never seen this expression before? Why was this face so alien to her despite the fact that she'd worked with him for so long, had lived with him for several weeks and spent most of her time for the past few months in his company?

And then Phoenix's voice rang true and clear in her head: _how many smiles do you think he can fake before he cracks?_

Her eyes continued to rake his face as she thought it over. She knew that Phoenix was always right but somehow… it hadn't sunk in. Had all of his smiles been so forced? Was not a single one real? And, quite suddenly, something was stirring in her chest as she thought about what he must be hiding beneath all of those jokes and all of that professional charm. There was a lump at the back of her throat and she was sure that if she continued to stare at his devastatingly handsome face, she would cry. Yet, she couldn't look away and one thought was running around in her mind; while she had her sister and good friends… His family and best friend were in prison for murder.

And suddenly, she needed to touch him as though doing so would transfer some of her love for him into his body and comfort him in his dreams. She knew it was completely irrational and not at all possible but… she didn't give a damn about rationale. Or anything else for that matter.

Her fingers were surprisingly steady as they moved toward his face and she ran her fingers lightly over his jaw, feeling the faint stubble there. She was surprised – there was something about him that was so boyish that she had never really considered him having facial hair. She smiled at the thought; he wasn't a boy – he was a man. More of a man than she had ever realised…

And her fingers were hovering over his slightly parted lips. In the moonlight, they looked softer than usual and alluring and she wanted nothing more than to press her own to them in a chaste kiss just so that she could feel them with hers, to fill that little hollow between his… No sooner had this thought crossed her mind that she felt like kicking herself for thinking of it because now she was probably going to do it even if she knew she would regret it afterwards. She was telling her body to stop, as her hand settled gently against the side of his face...

_Stop, stop, stop… Don't do it… _

But it was no use – her heart wasn't in it. She wanted to kiss him. She leaned in, inhaling deeply, and she noted that he smelled good but then what else could she expect?

And then he stirred.

Ema froze – quite literally. She didn't pull her hand back and she didn't move away. Even when his eyes fluttered open and he turned to look at her, Ema's hand remained disobediently on his cheek. She waited for him ask what the hell she was doing, fully expecting him to pull away and stare at her as though she was an idiot.

But he didn't.

He stared back at her and with every passing moment, her breathing was becoming more shallow, more difficult to take. Every second that her hand remained on his face, she lost some of herself in the intensity of his eyes, gaining confidence. Her fingers twitched and then they were tracing the outline of his face, brushing his soft hair out of his eyes, running over his brow and skimming over his forehead. This time, she didn't hesitate; she moved forward and, with her hand, guided his face. When her lips finally touched his cheek, she felt a fiery intensity course through her – more intense than anything she had ever felt before. It was as though the storm that had been building inside of her had finally thundered, drenching her in its rain, and she was lost in it.

_In him._

And before she knew it, her arms were around his neck and she was hugging him, her face pressed into his neck. Her heart warmed when she felt his arms go around her waist and he hugged her back. His silent acceptance of her gesture meant the world to her – more than she had ever realised anything could mean.

"Thank you," she said and her voice was muffled.

His hands were running up and down her back, starting a wildfire in her and she had to pull away. "For everything," she said, gesturing around, avoiding his gaze. "For letting me stay with you, for putting up with my weird behaviour earlier…"

"I do not remember any weird behaviour, _mein liebe_," Klavier said with a smile, taking her hand in his. "And it is my pleasure to have you here." His eyes gleamed mischievously and Ema found a smile creeping on her face as she guessed at his next remark; "And if it means the beautiful Ema Skye will hug me then you are welcome to stay for as long as you wish!"

She laughed and smacked his arm playfully. "Don't get carried away, Gavin."

He chuckled. "What will happen if I do?"

Ema's heart skipped a beat and she swallowed. "Then I won't be your friend anymore!" she joked.

"Am I your friend, Ema?" Klavier asked and his voice was barely a murmur.

"Of course," Ema said softly. She looked down at their joined hands and smiled. "You always will be." When Klavier didn't answer, Ema wondered if she'd said something wrong and she looked up at him. To her relief, he was smiling at her and she grinned. "You're still a fop, though."

Klavier threw his head back and laughed. "Just a fop?"

Ema glanced at his chain critically and one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. "Well, it's too dark for any glimmerousness. You'll be glimmerous in the morning."

"Is that so?" Klavier said, also raising an eyebrow. "I am also your boss in the morning, Fräulein Detective." Ema's eyes widened at the implication of those words and, again, Klavier laughed heartily. And then he lifted her hand to his mouth, dropping a kiss on her palm and her breathing stopped. "You have nothing to fear. I prize my friends far too much to let them go."

"Well," Ema said, clearing her throat. "If you sacked me I'd just move in here permanently and bother you until you gave me my job back."

Klavier's lips twitched. "This is a serious threat indeed. However, I must consider the fact that you have just blackmailed your boss – "

"My _fop _of a boss," Ema interrupted.

" – and insulted him… Perhaps, I _should_ consider sacking you after all." He was smiling now but his eyes were serious and his fingers were now suddenly entwined in hers and her heart was racing again.

"You can't sack me," Ema said, glancing down at their hands but it only served to make matters worse. Her breathing was ragged again and she didn't want to show him how much of an effect he had on her. "Because I need my daily supply of Snackoos and if I can't afford them anymore then I'll probably kill you."

"Ah, what a sweet death it would be," Klavier murmured and he was looking at their hands now and when his thumb swept across her palm, she shivered. Ema knew this was getting dangerous. She knew how she felt but, despite his words and actions, Ema wasn't certain about him - she didn't want to risk going into something complicated with everything else going on - and she didn't think she had the psychological capacity to deal with the mystery of their relationship. She was ready to love him now, she was ready to die for him but that didn't mean she had let go of all her inhibitions. If she was going to make herself vulnerable, she needed to know the strength of his feelings first.

"I should probably get back to sleep," she said quietly. "You should as well. It's late." She waited for him to look up, to show that he had heard her but he was still stroking the inside of her hand thoughtfully. With all of her strength, she opened her lips to repeat herself and just then he stood up, pulling her up with him. Silently, he led her to the door of her bedroom and with each step, her anxiousness heightened. _What was he doing? He wasn't going to…? Was he?_

"Fräulein," he said, gesturing towards her room with his right hand as his left still clasped hers. "Your bed awaits you." Then he kissed her fingers and she blushed, thankful for the darkness that veiled her shyness. She put her hands on his shoulders and, as if knowing what she was about to do, Klavier leaned down and smiled when she dropped a kiss on his cheek again.

"Night, Mr Gavin," she said quietly and heard him chuckle.

"Gute nacht, _mein liebe_," Klavier replied. "Sleep well."

She knew she would. By the time she slipped into bed and pulled the covers over herself, Ema had completely forgotten all about her nightmare.

* * *

Ema had decided to go back to work. For one, she was an active person and sitting around at home bored her to no end. For another, she was going to find out who was leaving her the HS-9 notes once and for all. She had an idea as to who it was – it had blond hair and a cheeky smile that kept floating before her eyes. Lastnight's conversation combined with the song… yes, Ema was pretty sure she knew who it was.

However, her desire to go back to work hadn't been enough to convince Klavier to actually let her – he had insisted (on pain of Snackoo deprivation) that she remain at home and that she hand whatever work she needed done, to someone else.

"You will rest, Fräulein," he had told her sternly when the idea of Snackoo starvation didn't work. "Or I will ring your sister."

Faced with this threat, Ema had had no choice but to (sulkily) agree to remain at home. Therefore, she had rang someone in work and instructed them to find one of the notes (there were so many littered around her desk) and perform a handwriting analysis. It had been almost an hour and she had already rang twice asking for the results only to be told they weren't available yet. She was pretty sure she had terrorised the guy on the last call but, really, how long did it take to perform a simple handwriting test? This was important and she needed an answer preferably before she ripped her hair out. She wanted to know who was leaving her a love note. She wanted to know if it was him…

Ema smiled when she remembered how she'd woken up and found Klavier busy at work in the kitchen preparing breakfast fit for a crowd. Laughing at the way he was rushing about, Ema had quickly learnt that he was a far better cook than she had imagined or she, herself, could ever hope to be. Not only was it cooked to perfection, he'd also managed it all by himself. When she tried helping (and promptly burnt some of it), Klavier had hastily insisted that she sit down and let him do the rest.

She chuckled. It had been a special morning – she'd woken early, because she'd wanted to go to work, so it had still been somewhat dark. The curtains that Ema had opened last night had remained that way so, when they were sat at the table and the sun rose, Ema saw him bathed in its glow. She'd stared at him, unable to tear her eyes away from the magnificence of his face, and watched him talk, smile, laugh – all of this highlighted by the light of the rising sun. She had wanted to reach over and touch his glowing skin, to brush his bangs out of his eyes but, of course, she couldn't. Surprisingly, it hadn't hurt her not to be able to do so – she'd been quite content to watch him eat and talk with her. She'd realised later that she must have looked like a love-sick fool but she had been unable to prevent it – how could she, when she was so entranced by the warmth of his eyes, the tone of his voice, the charm of his words?

And when he said her name, Ema's insides danced with joy. When he looked at her and smiled she felt like she was the most special person in the world. When he spoke to her, she could almost believe he loved her as much as she loved him. And when he left for work, she had felt like he'd taken her heart with him and it was then that she had realised the real reason she wanted to go back to work – to be with him.

She wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go. She wanted to hold him and absorb all his pain. She wanted to murmur her love to him every minute of the day; it was like a volcanic secret that needed release; she wanted to look him in the eyes and tell him the secret of her heart…

The sight Klavier's face floated before her closed eyes. Twin pools of azure glittered with mischief and she smiled, chuckling to herself.

The phone interrupted her thoughts and her eyes flew open as she cursed herself for letting her mind drift. She answered her phone on the second ring.

"Yes?" Ema demanded. "Have you got the results?"

"Yes," the man said timidly. Ema guessed he was still afraid of her but maybe that telling-to she'd given him earlier had been what got the job done now. "The handwriting belongs to Deston Cavatin, CJIS Division, FBI. He's a friend of Mr Gavin and – "

Ema stopped listening.

Deston Cavatin?

She cursed. _The bastard… The good-for-nothing, shameless, evil bastard!_

_What the hell was he up to now?_

Ema took a deep breath and, setting her phone aside, rubbed her eyes. Not only had this dashed any hopes of being certain Klavier felt something for her, she was now also left wondering what the hell Deston was playing at leaving those notes. He knew she was scientific when it came to figuring something out so he must have expected her to do a handwriting test on the note – the fact that she hadn't until now had just been because of her ignorance as to the nature of the message. But once she figured it out, what did he expect? Did he really think that she would believe he was madly in love with her? That he was professing his all-dying love for her?

She bunched her fists in frustration as she recalled another call she'd placed – to the security officer at the prison asking to see a tape of Cell Block C of the day she had overheard Daryan and Deston talking so that she could discover what it was about. Only, she'd been told that the security tapes for Cell Block C were restricted by the FBI and she was pretty sure she knew _who_ in the FBI had restricted them. So, in addition to not knowing _what_ exactly Deston had planned with Daryan and what his grudge against Klavier was, now she also had to figure out how HS-9 tied into a mystery she had no information about.

"AGH!"

She stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window of the apartment and stared down at the other buildings and the roads although she could barely make anything out – this building was dangerously tall and, of course, Klavier's apartment was at the very top. She would love to introduce Deston to the road below from up here. She looked across to the building opposite, trying to distract herself from the rage overtaking her. There was a woman on one of the balconies with a baby in her arms and she was pointing up at the sky as if she was trying to convince her child to look at the sky. A few stories above her, a man was also stood on the balcony and looked to be unpacking something from a black duffel bag. He paused, as if he knew he was being watched, and glanced up at her. His smirk was so obvious as he raised a hand to wave at her, that Ema made a sound in her throat. That smirk, somehow, reminded her of Deston – she'd never seen Deston smirk but the one on the guy's face was a clear representation of Deston's personality – arrogant, evil and cocky. She was going to kill him. She was going to take her gun and shoot his –

"AGGGHHH!" She marched to a table beside the sofa to rummage around in her bag for her Snackoos. Her blood pressure was rising and that was bad news for a normal person but for Ema…

A beep at the door caught her attention and she frowned wondering who it was. Cards were only used by authorised guests – Klavier always used his keys. Lana was busy today and Ema wasn't expecting anyone. Her eyes widened when she saw a flash of yellow and the victim of her murder fantasies looked around the flat. When his eyes landed on her he practically ran towards her.

"Ema, come with me, we need to – "

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Ema hissed, narrowing her eyes at him as she moved back, and Deston slowed down.

"Ema…?" Deston said, and Ema laughed derisively at the feigned expression of confusion on his face.

"Don't give me that, you overgrown canary! Do you think I'm stupid? Do you really think I'll walk out of here with you so –" She grabbed a handful of Snackoos and threw them at him, " – you can – " she threw another handful of them at him, " – murder me!" Losing control, she threw the entire bag at him. " You – "

"Ema!" Deston cut across her loudly. "I don't have time for your theatrics! We have to go! N_ow_! I have to get you out of here befo – "

"Before _what?" _Ema snapped, moving backwards, watching him through suspicious eyes. "Before I tell Klavier what you're planning? Before I stop you from – "

"Ema," Deston said warningly. "I swear to God if you don't follow me _right now _I'll – "

"You'll _what_ Deston?" Ema hissed, taking a step back with every step he took forward. "What are you going to do? Kill me? Go ahead!" she spat at him. "I'm not scared of you."

Deston frowned at her thunderously and his fists clenched as he moved toward her with increasing speed once more. "Ema Skye, _I'm telling you for the last time_. If I have to, I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry out of here like a ne – " Mid–rant he glanced to the right, out of the window, and froze. Ema watched him take a step towards where she'd been stood before, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to make something out. She heard him take a deep breath and, taking advantage of whatever had distracted him, she slipped her hand inside her bag on the table. Suddenly, he hissed and just as her fingers slipped around the metal of her gun, Deston shouted, "_Get DOWN_!" and he flew across the room at her, tackling her to the ground, as the world exploded around them in a shower of glass and pulsing torrents of flame.


	18. For Her

Behind the veil of affection they hide,

Uncaring of all the love they denied.

The rivers of sorrow they see not;

They ones they hurt so easily forgot.

.'.

Klavier picked up his keys from the table next to the door and glanced back at Ema who had followed him to the door. He suddenly felt like the husband going to work – the thought made him shiver with delight. He knew he was fooling himself but to generally see Ema first thing every morning had been enough to set a smile on his face – today she was beside him, seeing him off…

He cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut momentarily in a bid to get control of himself before turning around to her with a smile. She hadn't changed, hadn't showered and there was no trace of make-up on her face and she still looked like the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. It took him a second to speak and when he did, he didn't sound as collected as he'd have liked.

"Remember, if there is anything you need, do not hesitate to phone myself or Lana." Of course he preferred she rang him but he wasn't going to say that out loud.

As he expected, she glared at him and crossed her arms. "What I _need _is to go to work!"

Klavier suppressed a smile. "_Nein, _what you need is a nice massage," he said with a wink, trying to ignore the way his body responded to the idea. "I can…?"

"Out! OUT!" Ema started pushing him toward the door. "Get out, you glimmerous fop!"

Klavier roared with laughter as he felt her hands on his back, pushing for all she was worth and he allowed himself to be carried towards the exit until he almost banged into the door. He turned around without warning and she stumbled, clearly taken aback. He smirked at the way she crossed her arms again, as if to cover up her surprise. "Now, now, Fräulein… Allow me to make it up to you." She simply raised an eyebrow. "I will buy you a crate full of your favourite snacks which you can munch on – " (he smirked inwardly at the way a smile crept onto her face) " – while I give you a special German massage!"

Her face instantly transformed; Klavier was certain he'd never seen her scowl with that intensity and he knew that if she'd had a packet of Snackoos, he'd certainly have fallen victim to a shower of them. Aware of her lack of ammunition, Ema stomped her foot and he laughed again.

"You – you glimmerous fop!" She spat. Klavier spun his keys on his finger, grinning at her, wanting to see how far he could push her. He was about to tell her not to be shy when she did something to demonstrate she clearly wasn't.

She stuck out her tongue.

Needless to say, the sight of the woman he loved sticking her tongue out at him kicked all of his cheekiness into outer space. He stared at her for a moment, stunned at the unexpected action, before he cleared his throat and turned away to jam the key into the lock. Klavier knew that, if he didn't get away, he would grab her and kiss her and never let go… But there was a part of him that remembered the night before – and he didn't want to upset her again. So he took a deep breath to calm himself, opened the door and turned back to her.

"I will be late for work," he said. "I will see you tonight, ja?"

"If I haven't died of boredom," Ema muttered under her breath. Klavier unhooked one of her crossed arms and lifted her hand to his mouth. He brushed his lips across the back, revelling in the softness of it.

"_Ich wünsche Dir einen schönen Tag_," he murmured. "_Ich will, dass du…_"

"Will you please speak English?" Ema interrupted and Klavier felt his lips twitch at the way she was shaking her head. "Are you secretly swearing at me or something?"

Klavier chuckled at the irony of her question. "You have no idea, Fräulein."

Ema's eyes widened. "You are!"

"I would die before I ever let such words past my lips, Ema," Klavier said trying to suppress his exasperation. "Have a good day, _liebling._"

With one last sweep of her face, Klavier walked out of the doorway. Every step he took away from her seemed to get heavier and he almost felt her gaze on his back. Unable to help himself, Klavier glanced over his shoulder and saw her standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He smiled at her and waved, his heart jumping a little when she waved back.

His journey to work was filled with thoughts of her. He kept remembering waking up in the dark to find her sitting beside him, staring at him and holding a hand to his face. Klavier knew that he would never be able to explain what he had felt in that moment – he had been paralysed by the shock of seeing her, feeling her. And when she had kissed him… He didn't know how he'd managed to survive it. It had been as though the ground had opened up, swallowing him and every cell of his being was on fire and just when he thought he couldn't take any more, she had thrown her arms around him. The feel of her against him had been the watery relief his burning body had been screaming for and Klavier had held on to her, almost in desperation.

He had been re-playing the night over and over in his mind and a thousand questions arose; why had she cried? He had assumed it was because the attack on her and the subsequent fear had taken its toll on her but the more he thought about it, the less sense it made. Why had she broken down weeks later? And why on the night of her sister's engagement party? She seemed to have been happy…

And what had she been doing while he was asleep? Why had her hand been on his face? Why had she kissed him and hugged him? Klavier wondered if she had had an argument with Deston and then he remembered the way she had kissed him at the end of the party. Why would she have kissed him if something was wrong? And yet… Klavier had seen a look of surprise on Deston's face. Why was he shocked because his girlfriend kissed him? Klavier was certain something was wrong with them but he didn't want to ask Ema about it so he made up his mind to ask Deston. Klavier usually stayed out of other people's affairs and there were only a few things that could induce him to meddle – and Ema's tears were one of them.

"Sir?" One of the detectives stopped him on his way to his office, shaking him out of reverie. He stopped and faced the man.

"_Guten Morgen, Detektiv,_" he said. "Do you have something for me?"

"This is all the information I could gather on the victim in the Rainsford case," he said, handing Klavier the documents. He felt a swooping sensation in his stomach at the sight of the manila folder. "Her family, friends, place of origin, her health records and career information."

"What about Herr Lowes' account of her time with them?"

"He wouldn't talk to me or anyone else I sent, sir."

"Thank you, Detective." Klavier said with a nod. "Kindly keep this information to yourself."

"Understood, sir." The man said nodding.

Klavier's thoughts were captured by Simon Lowes. He supposed he would have to talk to him personally. He flicked through the rather sizeable amount of paper detailing her life as he walked through his office door and kicked it shut behind him. Careful not to tread on the wires meandering through his office, Klavier made his way around his desk and settled in his chair, putting down the folder on his desk.

He had been waiting for this information for a while – he wanted to know everything he could about Gale. Even after Rafael had openly told him she had been a pawn in his game, there remained a nagging doubt in the back of Klavier's mind that told him there was much more to the story. Why would Rafael want to find his brother? And judging by the facts so far, it was obvious it wasn't to send a Christmas card. Klavier wasn't going to rest until he resolved everything and he wanted to do it before Rafael was executed. He wanted the chance to confront the bastard for her. He owed her that.

However, he owed another woman his everything too and he wasn't going to forget the way she'd broken down in his arms. He knew that this investigation was going to take up his time today and he didn't want to delay talking to Deston. He was going to find out why she'd cried and if it came out that Deston was behind it… Instead of finishing what was clearly a violent thought, Klavier made up his mind and picked up his phone, dialling his friend's office number.

"_Good morning, you've reached Mr Cavatin's office. How may I help you?_" A female voice answered promptly.

"Morning, Fräulein," Klavier said. "Is Deston available?"

"_He left a few minutes ago, Mr Gavin,_" she answered. "_I believe he mentioned Miss Skye_."

Klavier tried to ignore the envy that rushed through him. "Do you know what it was, Fräulein?"

"_I think Mr Cavatin meant to visit her_."

"_Danke_," Klavier said putting the phone down. Well, it seemed like he was right in assuming something was wrong between the two and whatever it was, Deston was on his way to make it right. Klavier couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment which came with a healthy dose of guilt. Pushing it aside, he turned to the folder on his desk. He needed to take his mind off Ema…

But it wasn't that easy – he kept remembering the way she had looked at him last night. On more than one occasion he'd caught her looking at him, smiling when she looked away, her face flushing with embarrassment. Klavier had become almost convinced that she had realised who he'd sung for. If she hadn't, then he was certain he had at least affected her in some way; the Ema Skye he knew never kissed or hugged anyone.

Again, his mind drifted back to the night before and he asked himself, for the thousandth time, what she'd been about to do when he woke up. What had she been thinking when her fingers traced his face? He would have given anything to read her mind at that moment.

Whatever it was though, he knew that there was more to it. She hadn't behaved normally last night. Klavier didn't know how he'd managed to maintain control despite having her so near, despite feeling her soft lips against his cheek. He'd wanted nothing more than to pull her into his lap, wrap his arms around her waist and press his starved lips to hers.

Guilt poked at him again as he remembered that she was Deston's girlfriend – and if the man had any sense, he would be on his knees begging forgiveness from her right now. Klavier had no choice but to let last night be a memory; after all, he couldn't do anything about his feelings. If she felt anything for him, she had to be the one to make a move because she was the one who stood to lose anything.

But what if last night had just been her way of releasing her sadness? What if she regretted what had happened? Klavier's stomach filled with dread at the thought of going back and finding that the Ema Skye he'd breakfasted with and left this morning was gone – lost in the ether of madness.

He cursed under his breath and sat up straighter in his chair, yanking the folder open, flicking through the papers. He didn't want to think about such things. He would simply busy himself until the time came to…

The thought was lost as his eyes fell on the first sheet he came across; there was a photo clipped to it. If there hadn't been a different name beneath it, Klavier would have assumed it was Rafael. However, the name read _David Rainsford_ and Klavier had a feeling he'd just found Rafael's brother. Disturbed by the uncanny resemblance between the two brothers, Klavier looked at the dates and saw that there no possibility of their being twins; Rafael was seven years older. Initially taken aback at the likeness, upon closer inspection, Klavier saw that the other Rainsford's face was much sharper, more defined and his eye colour was gray.

Inexplicably, he felt his heart sink.

He didn't know why but looking at his picture, Klavier suddenly felt dread take over him, a dread he couldn't define or understand. Shaking it off, he began to read and with each paper he turned over, he was increasingly disturbed and saddened.

She was born Gale Sanders. The youngest of four siblings she was the only girl. Her background was relatively straightforward – her parents were law-abiding citizens and she, herself, was a hard-working student with an impressively high IQ and a happy girl. All in all, she seemed to be the ideal daughter, student and friend. As he continued reading though, he came across several testimonies given by her friends, that stated she was one of the best people they had ever met. He stopped skimming halfway through when a particular paper caught his eye – it was with her best friend, Bianca Haynes.

**Interviewer:**** Detective Thornton**

**Interviewee****: Bianca Haynes**

**Relationship to the victim****: Best friend / house mate**

**How did Ms Rainsford meet Mr Rainsford?**

_She met David at a café. She was waiting for me but I got held up at home with some stuff. When I saw her later, she told me that while she'd been waiting she got harassed by some guy. She __**really **__didn't like him but it wasn't a big deal because it wasn't like she was going to see him again. Anyway, we went to a party one night and Gale got involved with a couple who were arguing. Or I think the guy was annoying the girl, I'm not sure. Anyway, she got arguing with him and this guy got a bit physical – I think he was a bit drunk – and he lashed out at her. Next thing anyone knows, he's on the ground and David's standing over him. He'd knocked him out. We all thought it was weird that David happened to be at the same party but when they got together, I don't know –it seemed like it was meant to be or something._

**How did they come to be friends?**

_I think David apologised to her for the day in the café. To be honest, I'm not sure. Gale was never really open about things like that._

**Why not? You were her best friend were you not?**

_Yeah but she was a private person. That aside, the whole situation with David was different. She was always a bit cautious with anything to do with him… Or maybe it was that she was always confused herself. Their relationship wasn't the most straightforward. For instance, when they became friends, there was always something there that surpassed conventional friendship boundaries. When they were a couple, they weren't your average pair. It's hard to explain. There was always something different about them._

**How long was it before they became a couple?**

_Personally, I'd say they became a couple the moment they became friends. Officially? About 2 months after they met. _

**What were they like as a couple?**

_They were together for 8 years and they were in love every single day of those years. You know how they call the beginning of a relationship the honeymoon phase? Well, those two never snapped out of it. They were the envy of everyone they knew. You could see their love for each other in their faces, the way they moved around each other… it was almost like they became one person. I heard them finish each other's sentences so many times, even going so far as to say what the other was thinking. Even after so many years, it used to surprise me. He was crazy about her and she was crazy about him. There was no separating the two. If – Lord forbid – they ever had to spend a day apart… Well, it got quite depressing to be in her company. Or his._

**Then why did Mr Rainsford leave her?**

_I don't know. It was a shock to anyone who knew them. A group of us had gone out to eat the day before and Gale and David were perfectly fine. If anything, they looked as though they were more in love than ever. He wouldn't let go of her hand, he wouldn't take his eyes off her. Everyone kept cracking jokes about how gross it was but they barely noticed. I rang Gale that night and she mentioned him – said he was asleep or something – and because she sounded perfectly fine, I didn't think anything was wrong. The next day, I went around to her flat and found her sitting at her table, just staring at her hands. David was gone, along with all of his stuff. _

**Did Ms Rainsford never tell you why he'd left? Or where to?**

_No. She never spoke of it to anyone. Nobody ever found out why he left or where he went. She stopped talking to anyone, lost all contact with her family and moved away. I was worried about her so I moved with her but she made me promise never to tell anyone where she was. She carried on as normally as she could – I mean, she continued with her career but she was never the same. She changed her name and I never understood it. Why would she want the surname of the man who walked out on her? I never asked though and she never told me. She was never happy after that._

**Did she ever engage in another relationship?**

_No. There was always the hope and once or twice it looked as though someone might actually succeed but… she always kept her distance. _

**Do you know why Rafael Rainsford wanted to find his brother?**

_No. In my opinion they both deserve to be locked up together where they can fight until they die. The Rainsford name is a curse. One destroyed her emotionally and the other finished the job physically. They both deserve to rot in hell._

Klavier was frowning by the time he finished reading. He had learnt so much in this interview and, at the same time, he'd learnt nothing at all. The interview concluded with a note that Ms Haynes became too emotional to continue and Klavier didn't blame her – his own heart was heavy after reading it, his mind confused. Judging by what he'd read, David Rainsford seemed to have been head over heels in love with Gale… yet he had suddenly left her.

Why?

Klavier pictured her face again. The sadness etched in her eyes, the broken smile… His mind couldn't comprehend a love that left a woman so shattered. Why had David left her? Why had he done it? He couldn't understand. _How _could he do it if he loved her so much? Klavier could never imagine leaving Ema and he'd loved her only a short while. David and Gale had been an item for 8 years.

Eight damn years and the bastard had left her. And even then she had remained loyal to him… and died for him.

What had happened? What had gone on behind those closed doors?

Klavier slammed the folder shut. He didn't want to read anymore. Somehow, reading her life like this was an insult to her memory; her pain, her trials and tribulations couldn't be captured by mere ink. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers touching at the tips, subconsciously mirroring his brother… And he thought.

David and Gale had been in a relationship for 8 years after which he had abruptly left her, without apparent cause. She moved away from everyone – Klavier assumed she wanted to seclude herself – and continued her career. Nine years after David's departure, Gale was approached and kidnapped by Rafael who held her hostage for 6 months. Klavier didn't know what happened during those 6 months but something told him it was important. After those 6 months, Rafael came down on her hard – he raped her and murdered her. Why had he suddenly decided to kill her instead of letting her go? Why had he raped her? There were so many questions…

Another question was bothering him; why had Rafael allowed Simon to live? After having to tie him down in order to prevent any interference from him, why had he let him go? In the time it had taken for Gale's body to be discovered, the police to find the murderer and arrest him, 4 days had passed – Simon Lowes did not appear a cowardly man. On the contrary, he gave the impression that he _could_ kill if pushed far enough… So, what had he done after being forced to watch Gale's murder?

Klavier rubbed his eyes. He was confusing himself with all these questions. Sitting around wasn't going to get him the answers he sought. He stood up, threw the folder into a cabinet and locked it shut. Then, he looked at the clock: 9.38 AM.

It was time to pay Simon Lowes another visit.

* * *

"You're back sooner than I expect," Simon said from his position on the bed as Klavier stepped into the cell. He was lying down again, his hands crossed behind his head and didn't bother looking at the prosecutor. Klavier wondered what Simon thought about in that position, what did he see in the ceiling? And then the answer came to him;

_Gale, of course. Who else?_

"Indeed," Klavier said, nodding once to the warden who closed the cell door but didn't lock it. "I have a few more questions for you."

"How shocking."

He frowned inwardly, wondering what had evoked this sarcasm when Klavier had only just stepped into the cell. "I visited your friend, Raf – "

"He's not my friend," Simon interrupted, sitting up and glaring at Klavier. "The bastard's incapable of being a friend to anyone."

"I cannot imagine why." Klavier said dryly, digging a thumb into his belt. "He is positively charming."

Simon smirked. "Got under your skin, did he?"

Klavier chose to ignore this question and moved forward instead. He stared down at Simon for a moment wondering if he should even bother asking the next question or simply jump a few steps and get on with it. Simon seemed an unpredictable sort. With this thought, Klavier decided he wanted to see Simon's reaction to his questions before he proceeded with his plan of action.

"I did a little research into Gale's background," Klavier said, watching Simon closely. "Did you know David Rainsford?"

Simon's face drained of colour and then, quite suddenly, he was on his feet. Klavier stood his ground as the tall Latino stared at him, anger seeping into his face, fists curling. He was visibly shaking and, for a moment, Klavier was certain that he was going to strike him but just then Simon turned around and punched the wall. Klavier was silent as Simon stood, leaning against it, taking deep breaths as if trying to calm himself. And then he spoke;

"Yeah," Simon said quietly but Klavier heard the disgust in his voice loud and clear. "I knew him."

"How?"

A pause. Then –

"He was my friend."

Klavier stared, unsure if he'd heard right. This was getting more and more confusing. "Elaborate, _bitte_."

"I met Gale when they were together. I fell in love with her." Simon's voice was low and it was at a stark contrast with the venom of his next words; "I hated him for what he was doing to her."

Klavier felt an urgency rise within him – the type of urgency that came upon finding out something new – and his hand curled into a fist.

"What was he doing to her?"

Simon turned around, rage burning in those dark eyes and Klavier saw, for the first time, the inferno that was torturing this man on the inside. When he spoke, his words were like the flames themselves – searing hot and painful.

"He's the reason she was murdered," Simon hissed, turning his head to look at Klavier. "The moment he entered her life, she was dead."

Klavier turned cold. "Why?"

"David knew Rafael would stop at nothing to kill him," Simon faced Klavier fully now. "He knew what he was condemning her to by getting involved!"

"Did she know?" Klavier asked, his heart heavy. "Did she – "

"Of course she knew!" Simon laughed, almost disbelievingly. "Her _knowing _made no difference except to ease his conscience! He knew she would never have been scared away! It was _his_ job never to get involved! Every fucking day he spent by her side, _he was killing her_!" He pounded the wall again. "She was dying and she didn't even know it! _He should have just let her be!_" His shouted words echoed painfully in the silence that descended upon the small cell.

Klavier didn't know what to say. He was trying to absorb all the information while resisting the urge to move forward and place a hand on the man's heaving shoulders. Simon might have had a part in the kidnapping but Klavier could no longer deny the guilt he carried inside. Klavier knew that had he been in Simon's place… He shuddered at the thought. He couldn't bear to think of it.

So, whatever war had been raging between David and Rafael had been going on since before David ever met Gale. He had endangered her… and left her. Klavier was beginning to hate the Rainsford brothers with an intensity he rarely experienced. He was having a difficult time deciding who was worse – the elder Rainsford for murdering her or his brother, the one who knowingly put her in danger… the reason she'd found herself at the hands of the bastard.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and Klavier looked at Simon with narrowed eyes. "Why did you help Rafael kidnap Gale if you knew how dangerous he was?"

He didn't answer straight away and Klavier wondered if Simon had heard him. Then, he pounded the wall again. "Because I was angry. I'd fooled myself into thinking I didn't care for her anymore."

"Faced with the chance that she might be killed did not clear your mind?" Klavier asked, trying to keep the coldness out of his voice.

"Sometimes, yeah…" Simon looked at him again and the fire was gone again, to be replaced by emptiness. "And I told myself I'd take care of her. Rafael had promised me he wouldn't hurt her if he found David."

"And you believed him?" Klavier asked disbelievingly.

Simon pushed himself away from the wall and faced him. "You met Rafael. You know how he is." Klavier thought back to his meeting with the criminal and he recalled the way Rafael had managed to confuse him into almost feeling sympathy for the brutal murderer. Unable to deny the truth of Simon's words, he nodded. "He played on my hatred for David, my anger at Gale and, at the root of it, my love for her. He said he only wanted to find David and then he would let Gale go and if I helped him…" Simon took a deep, ragged breath. "That he would never touch her again." He turned his back to Klavier who felt a surge of sympathy for the man. "I was messed up. I was eaten alive with longing and anger."

"Anger at what?" Klavier asked.

Simon didn't answer; he was still and silent except for the sound of his unsteady breathing. Klavier guessed he wasn't going to answer the question and he decided to drop it for now – he'd already pushed Simon enough. He'd got a few answers… albeit with more mysteries.

"Herr Lowes," Klavier said and his voice was gentle. "I wish for you to accompany me somewhere."

Simon snickered and turned to face him again. His face was perfectly composed again and a smirk was playing around his lips. "Are we taking the cell with us? 'Cos I'm in no mood to carry a ton of concr – "

"I have arranged for you to leave for one day provided you are escorted with a police officer and myself," Klavier interrupted. "Given the circumstances of your crime and your plea, it was not difficult to do."

Simon's eyes narrowed. "Why? Where do you want to take me?"

Klavier fixed his eyes on the other's firmly. "I know we have met only twice and we are no friends. The only thing we have in common is dead." Simon's jaw clenched but he remained quiet. "You wished to know how I knew Gale."

Simon opened his mouth as if to say something but seemed to change his mind. His lips sealed again and he crossed his arms, staring back at the prosecutor.

Klavier smiled when he remembered Gale in that one and only encounter on the beach. "Gale saved my life," he said. "I want to make sure she did not die in vain."

"And how are you going to do that?" Simon asked with narrowed eyes.

"I have been thinking," Klavier said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Rafael is in far too… presentable a state for a prisoner. Given what I have heard and seen, he appears to enjoy certain privileges – even if they are not evident at first. I do not think I am wrong in believing that he has men on the outside still following his commands. Correct me if I am wrong."

"You're not."

"By extension, I would say that David Rainsford is still in danger."

"So?" Simon spat. "Let him die the death of a dog. That's the kind of death that's – "

"Herr Lowes…" Klavier shook his head. "However much of a scum he may be… Whatever he has done… Gale died for him." Something flickered across Simon's face. "Would you let her murderer win? Would you let her die in vain?" He read the response on Simon's face before the other even spoke.

"No."

"Then please help me," Klavier said, pleading with his eyes. "Let us make sure there is no way that he can be hurt… for her." When Simon didn't respond straight away, Klavier knew he had to act fast – he had to make this work – so he chose his words carefully. "Nothing you do now will undo the consequences of your actions," he echoed Gale's words, wondering if they would sound familiar to Simon. They seemed to – the Latino looked at him sharply, his eyes narrowed. "But you can help to make amends. Together we can pick up the remnants of the past and shape the future." Simon's lips pursed. "He will pay for he did or did not do." Klavier said and he couldn't keep the urgency out of his voice. "That is the way of the world." After a moment that seemed to last forever, Simon uncrossed his arms slowly and paused.

Then he gave one curt nod.

"_Danke,_" Klavier said, sighing with relief inwardly. His muscles relaxed and it was only then that he realised how tightly wound he'd been. "If you will follow the warden, I have brought you a set of fresh clothes. Kindly get ready. We have a journey ahead of us."

"Huh." Simon followed Klavier to the cell door. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"We are to visit an acquaintance who I hope can help us," Klavier said leading him down the corridor. He didn't want to tell Simon what he had in store because he was certain it would elicit a negative reaction if he were to do it here.

"Is it a prosecutor thing to be so secretive?" Simon asked irritatedly.

Klavier laughed. "_Natürlich_! We have to hide information if we wish for our cases to succeed. It gives us the element of surprise against the defence."

"We're not in court," Simon said shortly to which Klavier merely chuckled. They walked in silence, followed by the warden and a police officer who had appeared from nowhere. Klavier looked ahead without really seeing where he was going – the next few hours were going to be tough on him but, more importantly, on Simon. He hoped that he'd made the right decision.

"How did she save you?"

He turned to look at Simon who was watching him quizzically. Klavier wasn't taken aback at the question. He'd been expecting it at one point or the other and he had his answer ready.

"She saved me from myself."

He waited for the 'what do you mean?' that he thought inevitable but Simon's next words weren't those and they _did _take him by surprise.

"She was good at that."

"She was?" Klavier frowned. Simon looked at him again and this time, his smile was genuine, with no hint of mockery.

"Did you think you were her first?" Simon asked.

"I…" Klavier paused. He'd never really thought of her in relation to others. "I never thought of it that way, I suppose."

"She saved me too," Simon said quietly. Klavier looked at him, surprised and the other looked back at him in amusement. "You're probably thinking I don't look saved, having just walked out of a prison cell, huh? "

"_Nein, _I was – "

Simon waved his hand with a laugh. "It's fine." He sobered and his expression was soft when he looked at Klavier. "She changed me. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have had the conscience to admit to my guilt on the stand. Hell, I don't think I'd be walking this Earth if wasn't for her."

They fell silent again and the thought that was spinning in his mind fell from Simon's lips, breaking the silence only seconds later;

"It should have been us saving her. Me, David, you… but she saved us." Azure eyes met raven black, sharing the same sadness, the same regret.

"She saved us all."

* * *

Ich wünsche Dir einen schönen Tag - Have a nice day

Ich will, dass du... - I want you to...


	19. Illusory Arts

"Ema? Ema, can you hear me?"

She was going to take the hammer that was being rammed into her head and beat the owner of that voice to death. Within seconds of hearing the infernal sound, Ema tried to move and immediately her body screamed in protest, chastising her in the most painful way for even thinking of lifting a finger. She opened her eyes and a white monster attacked her and she cried out in pain, a string of curses bursting forth from her lips.

"Ema? Ema, look at me," the voice commanded and she thought that whoever it was, he was lucky she couldn't move or she would have ripped his face off. "Look at me, babe."

_Babe_! That did it. White monster or not she was going to get this guy and make him eat his own words. She opened her eyes again, ignoring the sharp pain she experienced, and focused on the room; she saw that the 'monster' was just white walls and, suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, a flash of yellow caught her attention. She turned her head to the side and blinked a few times until he came into focus.

"Deston?"

His arm was bandaged and there were several cuts to the side of his face. His hair was an unseemly mess and his clothes were ripped in several places. She frowned, wondering what had caused this state.

"Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?" His voice sounded odd but it was clearly dripping with concern and she frowned again, wondering why he was talking to her like an invalid. It was then that she took into account the background; her eyes swept around the room once more, taking in the surroundings and she realised she was in a hospital room… In a hospital bed.

"What…?" She began but it all came back to her. Deston entering the flat. Demanding she go with him. Tackling her.

The blast.

Wide-eyed, Ema looked at him and swallowed the gasp that was making its way up. Somebody had tried to kill her.

Again.

"Ema, talk to me," Deston pleaded and his bandage-less arm reached out to take her hand. She jerked it out of reach, her fear numbing the pain that shot through her at the movement. She could do nothing but blink at him, trying to remain calm. "Ema…?"

"You…" She swallowed her fear and took a deep breath, trying to get hold of herself. "You've got –"

"Wait," Deston said holding up a hand. "Let me call the nurse." And before Ema could say otherwise, he was gone. She very much doubted he'd gone to find a doctor… Actually, he was too smooth to run away. He would call someone, to make himself look like the concerned boyfriend, and probably try to kill her again at the first possible opportunity. Ema almost laughed at the idea – her first boyfriend in forever and he was trying to kill her! How on earth did she manage to get so lucky?

Her mind cleared as, within minutes, Deston was rushing back into the room, followed by nurses and a kind looking doctor. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Ema thought that if she didn't know what Deston was up, she would have been extremely touched by the frenzied look of concern that was etched in the lines of his injured face.

However, all thoughts were pushed out her mind when the doctor began asking her useless questions and examined her physically. Throughout it, Ema's eyes were fixed on Deston whose normally calm expression was disturbed by anxiousness – she found it almost comical when she saw he was biting his nails. It was unlike the elegant man. One of the nurses glanced at him and, following his gaze, she mumbled something that sounded like 'lucky'.

Yes, she certain was lucky – lucky to be alive. And Ema was no fool; she had no illusions about why Deston looked like he was about to have a heart attack. Of course, Ema had remained quiet about her suspicions throughout everything because she had Klavier's best interests at heart. She didn't want to put him through anymore heartache than was necessary but of course, Deston didn't know this and she wasn't about to tell him. Complacency could get her killed a lot easier.

It was funny though. Considering what agency Deston worked for, she'd have thought his assassination attempt would be successful the first time around – never mind fail. He was apparently one of the best FBI agents for his division… Still, Ema supposed that being compromised in a plan would make anyone nervous.

"Mr Cavatin," the Doctor said. "You should return to your bed and rest. You suffered too."

"I'm fine, thank you," Deston replied, barely sparing a glance at the woman; his eyes were burning holes in Ema's face.

"Very well." The Doctor looked between them and sighed. "Considering your occupations, I don't think I have to cite procedure. The police should be here soon."

"Yes, thank you," Deston said shortly. After a split second of hesitation, the woman left, leaving the two alone.

Ema stared at him for a long moment in which Deston stared back. She took in the array of cuts and noticed that they extended down his neck – in fact his entire right side was either a bloody mess, shredded cloth – or both. Finally, she looked away and, uncomfortable with lying on her back in his company, she made to sit up. Immediately, he moved forward to hep her but she held up a hand to stop him.

"No, thank you," she said curtly. "I think you've done enough."

"Ema," Deston sighed. "I'm sorry. I tried not to hurt you – "

Ema's laugh cut across him. "You're sorry? Gee, I think that's going to make it all right now! Obviously, I'm just meant to forget everything and you won't hurt me now! Right?"

Deston frowned. "Ema, I meant when I tac – "

"Tell me, what made you change your mind?" Ema said in a cheerful tone. "Why did you come in at the last minute and save me? Did you see the error of your ways?" She said condescendingly and watched, her insides boiling, as he turned his back to her and banged his fist against the wall. "Or did you think you could fool me into thinking that because you came to my rescue, you're not an evil ba – "

"I'm not apologising for trying to kill you," Deston said from his position against the wall.

"I didn't think so, to be honest," Ema said. "I was exercising a little thing called sarcasm. You should know all about it as your buddy _Daryan_ is –"

"_Ema_!" Deston snapped, turning around. "I wasn't apologising for trying to kill you because I never tried! I was apologising for hurting you when I tackled you to the ground and _saved your life_!" He let out a low sound in his throat. "What do you think I am, some master of the illusory arts? I don't kill people."

"I know," Ema said, her eyes flashing and he frowned. "You're the type to make a despicable plan to destroy your friend then skulk in the shadows as you watch hired assassins complete the job _you're_ too scared to do yourself. _You _wouldn't get your hands dirty."

"_Dammit, _Ema!" Deston said and his voice was rising in volume. "I thought you were supposed to be a detective! You sound like you've been watching too many movies and not doing enough work!"

"HA!" Ema scoffed. "I thought you were supposed to be an FBI agent. Klavier's friend. Last I checked, that job description didn't entail evil plans!" She rolled her eyes. "But sounds like _you_ watched too many movies yourself! Plotting against your frien – "

"Ema Skye!" Deston groaned. "You're completely crazy! How could you think I would ever plot against Klavier? He's one of my closest friends! What the hell could induce you to believe that I – "

"Oh, I don't know," Ema said sarcastically, putting on her thinking face. "Let me think…"

"Ema – "

"_I need it to work, Cavatin_," Ema imitated Daryan's drawl before switching to Deston's calm tone. "_You've always been self-centred_." Deston was looking at her with a thunderous expression but she wasn't intimidated as her voice deepened into an imitation of Daryan's again. "_Does Gavin know?_" Deston's eyes widened all of a sudden and Ema knew she had him. "_Yeah right. You think I'm stupid?" _Ema glared at him as she shot his own words back at him. "_I wouldn't tell that bastard anything if my life depended on it_." And finally, the most ironic of all, Ema repeated Daryan's words; "_He has a way of acting like your friend at the right time and then turning around and stabbing you in the back."_

A silence followed Ema's performance in which she looked at Deston fiercely as if daring him to deny it. Shocked, Deston could do nothing but stare back with a dumbfounded expression and Ema wondered what he would do now. He couldn't very well kill her here and he couldn't let her talk because then he would be in trouble. Ema herself was having a hard time deciding on what the best course of action was. She didn't want to hurt Klavier but it was fast becoming obvious that she could not handle him alone. If he could blow up an apartment building, he could do anything. He was a psychopath and out of control and Ema needed help.

It was just when she reached this conclusion that, to her surprise, the corner of Deston's mouth lifted into a smile. She frowned as the other corner soon joined in the ascent and he was flashing those pearly whites of his at her and then, quite suddenly, he was chuckling. She felt a jolt of fear as he took a step toward her, his chuckles morphing into outright laughter and he fell into a chair beside the bed where he clapped his leg with his good hand, shaking his head, his body shaking with mirth.

Had he lost his mind! Ema wouldn't put it past him to flip and suddenly do something to her right there and then. She looked around, quickly trying to find the best way to escape should it come to that, when he suddenly leant to the side and pulled out something from his pocket. Ema froze, expecting to be on the receiving end of a bullet, but Deston simply pulled out his phone, flipped it open, pressed a button and lifted it to his ear, regarding her with amusement.

Finally, when he spoke, his voice was thick with hilarity; "Hey there. I'm… Ah you heard? Yes… Yeah I am. Ema's here too. I was… Actually that's why I was ringing. I think I might need your help. Uh huh… Yeah I will. Come quick. She doesn't have any Snackoos but she's still dangerous."

Ema's eyes narrowed as he chuckled and put the phone of the side table. When he leaned her way, Ema cringed and moved backwards, expecting him to strike her. Deston's smile vanished and he was shaking his head,

"Oh Ema… Ema…" He sighed, settling in the chair again. "Why didn't you mention this before? All this time, I've been trying to fi – "

"Oh, now you're going to tell me I misunderstood everything?" Ema snapped. She was frightened, angry and in pain and she just wanted it all to be over.

"You _did _misunderstand, Ema," Deston said and his voice was kind but she didn't trust it.

"Oh really?" Ema said in a sarcastic voice. "Tell me how else you can construe the sentence 'I wouldn't tell _that _bastard anything if my life depended on it'? How can I misunderstand that you swore at Klavier, that you're hiding something from – "

"Ah but there's the misunderstanding, right there!" Deston interrupted with a smile, shaking his head again. "Remind me again, Ema, when did I say it was Klavier?"

Ema scoffed. "Even one of his bimbo fan-girls would know that his last damn name is – "

"Ema," Deston said, cutting across her again. "He's not the only Gavin."

Ema frowned, staring at him, uncomprehending of what he was saying. What the hell was he…?

"That's right," Deston said with a smile as he took in her widening eyes and shocked expression. "You know there are two of them."

Ema's mind had gone blank for a moment as she tried to recall the conversation. No, no, no… Something wasn't right… there had been a particular reason why she was certain they'd been talking about Klavier. Deston was just trying to reason his way out of this…

"Very clever," Ema said angrily. "But it's not just that." She expected his expression to change, for him to say something but he continued on looking at her with a benign smile. Furious, Ema spoke up again, "I heard Daryan – he said something like 'he has a way of acting like your friend at the right time and then turning around and stabbing you in the back'!" She narrowed her eyes, waiting for his explanation.

"Aaaah, Ema…" Deston let out a deep breath. "The answer's there; first of all, K's not the type to act your friend _just at the right time_." He chuckled when Ema frowned. "The statement implies that the man we were discussing only acts like your friend at the time you need him most." When Ema didn't say anything, he continued; "As for stabbing you in the back… When has K ever stabbed anyone in the back? He's too honest for that. Rather, it's him that gets stabbed in the back."

"How does that even make sense?" Ema demanded.

Deston raised an eyebrow. "Didn't Kristoph pretend to be Mr Wright's friend, to defend him while being the murderer all along?" He asked. "Kristoph acted like his friend at the right time. That's what Daryan was referring to."

Ema was quiet as she took this in but then her mind was whirring again as another thought ran through her. "Daryan's been – "

"Daryan committed a crime," Deston said, not unkindly. "K did what he thought right and Daryan doesn't begrudge him or hate him for it. If anything, he's the one who stabbed K in the back and he's one of the first to admit it."

"I saw Daryan's reaction on the stand," Ema argued. "He was pi – "

"Of course Daryan was angry," Deston said. "Anybody would have been. No, hear me out," he said, holding up a hand when Ema opened her mouth to argue. "Did you never wonder why Daryan smuggled that damn cocoon into the country?"

"Because he wanted money, obviously," Ema said, rolling her eyes.

"Really?" Deston asked, his eyes deadly serious now. "There was no other way for him to make money? Keeping in mind the fact that he was a member of our band and we rake in more than two people make in a lifetime? Not to mention, he was one of the best detectives in Criminal Affairs. He had two successful full-time jobs. He's richer than you can even imagine." Deston paused. "And you think he wanted more? Daryan already has more money than he could ever spend." He shook his head. "Think about it Ema – even if he _did _want money, you don't think he could have done it in a less risky way?"

Ema was silent – what could she say to that logic? There was something in her that was still struggling to trust him but there was another side of her that was actually listening to him because what he was saying was making sense…

"Then why?" She demanded, her eyes fixed on Deston's. She wanted answers and she wanted them now. "Why did he smuggle a cocoon into the country? What, he suddenly felt philanthropic and wanted to help the Chief – "

"No, nothing like that," Deston said and a part of Ema felt a twinge of annoyance at the way he kept cutting across her. "Of course, the only reason he would risk everything he had was because he _needed _the cocoon."

"Why?"

"Ema…" Deston rubbed the bridge of his nose before looking up at her. "Daryan needed the cocoon for the cure. He needed the cure for Tessa."

Ema's eyes widened. "Tessa?" she whispered.

"Tessa," Deston repeated. "Tessa Crescend."

Ema blinked. Tessa… Crescend? The Tessa she'd been visiting was…?

"She and Daryan married privately a month before his trial," Deston explained, a weary look upon his face. "They kept it quiet from everyone because she was ill and he didn't want to subject her to the publicity she was sure to get if it ever came out they were married."

"You're telling me…" Ema's voice was barely audible. She felt numb. "…that Tessa's dying of Incuritis?"

Slowly, but surely, Deston nodded. Ema looked away from him, blinking fiercely as tears blurred her vision. Unwilling to accept this, she lashed out once more; it couldn't be true. Deston was just trying to play on her emotions, make her vulnerable, make her forget what was important…

"If he was doing it for her, why did he burn the damn guitar on stage?" Ema asked, her tone aggressive. "He'd already killed LeTouse, why didn't he just wait till afterwards and – "

"If the one you loved was dying, would you want to risk spending the remaining time in prison for a piece of cocoon that might not work?"

Ema's head snapped toward the doorway, where the voice came from, and she saw Phoenix Wright filling the frame, his hands in his pocket as usual and a serious look on his face. Ema's heart leapt and sank at the same time – if he was here, she was safe. But… what had he just said?

"Phoenix," Deston said, standing up and Ema frowned. They were on first-name terms? "Thank you for coming."

Phoenix nodded and walked towards Ema, a frown creasing his forehead. "Ema," he said. "How are you?"

She barely heard him – she was too busy looking from him to Deston and back again. "I… don't…"

"Understand?" Phoenix offered and Ema nodded faintly. "To be honest, neither do I." He looked at Deston questioningly.

"I've been trying to explain to Ema that I'm not the one trying to kill her," Deston said dryly.

"Kill her?" Phoenix repeated with a raise of an eyebrow. "Why would she think you're trying to kill her?"

Ema listened, her mind numb and her heart beating a mile a second, as Deston recounted their preceding conversation, taking in Phoenix's reaction of surprise and amusement and, finally, when it came to Tessa and Daryan, solemnity. Finally, the ex-attorney turned to her with a kind smile and, taking a hand out of his pocket, placed it over hers.

"Oh Ema," he said. "Still taking on responsibility too big for you."

"Bu-but Mr Wright…!" Ema spluttered. "I'm so confused! What the…?"

"Everything Deston has told you so far is true," Phoenix said. Ema's eyes widened as shock jolted through her and she looked at Deston sharply, who was stood behind Phoenix. "He's been working with me."

"With you?" Ema echoed and then shook her head, trying to clear it of all the information. She felt as though someone had jammed it with a million words and she had no place to store them. "But I heard Daryan and Deston…"

"Daryan's also helping as much as he can," Phoenix said. "He committed a crime – but not because he's evil."

"He was just trying to save his wife," Deston said.

Ema looked between the two – one, a man she had distrusted for weeks, believing him to be a murderer and the other, the face of her saviour, the one who had saved her family. If Phoenix trusted Deston, then she had no reason to doubt him. Phoenix Wright was never wrong and he never allied himself with evil people.

How could she have been so wrong?

And then came the realisation that if she was trusting Deston then…

"Tessa's really dying of Incuritis isn't she?" Ema asked quietly. Phoenix glanced at Deston before they both nodded. She turned away and glanced down at her hands which blurred within moments and stillness fell around her, bringing with it the echo of the truth…

_Daryan needed the cocoon for the cure. He needed the cure for Tessa._

"Why doesn't Klavier know about Tessa and Daryan?" Ema asked, trying to fill the silence.

"Because Daryan and Tessa think he'll get even more angry," Deston answered. "They don't think he'll understand."

Ema's eyes flashed. "Why do you think Klavier won't understand? What do you think he is, some kind of – "

"Hey, whoa!" Deston threw his hands up in the air. "I've been trying to convince them to tell him!"

"If Daryan told you, why couldn't he tell Klavier?" Ema demanded.

"Nobody told me," Deston said shaking his head. "I just didn't buy that whole greedier-than-thou bullshit. I went out and did a little investigating. I found out on my own."

Ema fell into contemplative silence again. So Daryan and Tessa… He'd tried saving her, taken such a risk… and he was paying the worst price. He was locked away while his wife died in a hospital bed. Ema rested her head against the pillows and closed her head, trying to prevent the tears from falling. Everything made sense now; why Tessa didn't want Klavier knowing who she was – in case he started doing some digging around. The argument she'd overheard between Deston and Tessa had been him trying to convince her to tell Klavier…

She couldn't imagine being in Tessa's shoes… nor Daryan's. The thought of their problem caused a sorrow to wash over her and she was so deeply saddened that her heart sunk. How did Daryan survive those concrete walls? She imagined him locked away with his thoughts, his horror at the impending death of his wife, the sense of failure. He must think about her all the time, Ema thought. How much must he love her if he'd been willing to take such a huge risk? And yes, Phoenix was right – if she'd been in his place, she would have burnt the cocoon and spent what time she had left with Klavier…

She squeezed her eyes and what tears she'd been holding back escaped, rolling down her cheeks. She snapped her head to the side to shake away the image of a dying Klavier. No… she couldn't think about it… she wouldn't…

And her mind suddenly threw her the rope she needed to pull herself out of the emotional abyss she was sinking into.

"So what plan were you and Daryan discussing?" Ema said, turning to Deston, uncaring, for the first time in her life, of the tears that trailed down her face. "You were talking about Kristoph. What the hell is going on?"

Phoenix and Deston looked at each other before turning back to her and she didn't like the look of wariness on their faces.

"Ema… You've been through a lot," Deston said kindly. "Just relax. Now's not the time to be discussing this."

"I want to know," she said stubbornly.

"We can't talk about this yet, Ema," Phoenix said, turning toward the door. "Just rest for now. I'll go talk to the doctor about discharging you. We need to get you somewhere safe."

"Somewhere… safe?" Ema blinked, looking between the two men again. "Why?" Again, the men exchanged looks and this time, she didn't need them to say what the problem was. She answered her own question almost instantly, shocking realisation gushing through her. "Someone's trying to kill me."

"Don't worry," Deston said, placing a hand over hers. "We're not going to let anything happen to you." Phoenix turned back around to face her and smiled.

"Trust me, Ema," he said and his eyes seem to flash. "I'm going to find whoever it is and bring him to justice."

"Him? Do you know who it is?" Ema asked and then she suddenly felt like she'd been hit over the head with a hammer as the bits and pieces of the conversation came together. "Is it Kristoph?"

Phoenix shook his head. "No, it's not him."

"How do you know?" Ema demanded. "You can't be – "

"It's not him, Ema," Deston interrupted. "He doesn't know where you were and what's more, he's got no reason to kill you."

"Not to mention, he may enjoy amenities in prison," Phoenix added, his eyes tightening. "But his arm isn't that long. He can't get to you from inside prison and like Deston said, he's got no reason to attack you – I can tell you that with confidence. Now, just _relax_," he added when he saw her about to protest. "Let me go talk to the doctor and we can sort something out. Then we can discuss this in more detail later." Without waiting for an answer, Phoenix turned around and walked out, leaving Deston alone with Ema.

She shook her head, trying to clear it, and winced when it hurt. It felt as though her brain had been knocked loose and was being thrown around inside. Obviously, that was scientifically impossible as she would be dead by now if that had happened but still, she –

"Ema?" She jumped before looking at Deston who was watching her, his thumb running across the back of her hand. She stared at him blankly, looking up into his injured face. There was something bugging her, something she was supposed to say… "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I…"

_What the hell was she missing?_

"Are you sure?" he asked. She glanced down at their hands and the nagging feeling grew worse.

"I… Yeah – " she looked up at him, " – I'm sure. I guess I… owe you my thanks." She laughed dryly at the confusion that was rendering her almost incoherent. "You saved my life and I accused you of doing the opposite."

"It's alright," Deston laughed. "You're worth it."

"What?" Ema frowned.

"You're too precious to lose, Ema Skye," Deston whispered. "I see why K's in love with you."

Ema's body jerked and her muscles screamed their disapproval but she barely noticed. _What had he just said? _And there was that nagging feeling again, practically shoving her off the edge of some cliff, trying to remind her of something…

"W-What?" She stammered.

Deston laughed. "You don't even realise it do you?" He shook his head, chuckling as he looked down at the hand he was holding. "You're both ridiculous."

"W-W-What are you saying?" she exclaimed. "We – I mean, he doesn't… I don't know what you're talking about!"

Deston laughed again. "I can't laugh as loud as I'd like because it hurts," he said and his gray eyes were glittering with mischief. "Ema Skye… you really are something else."

And then it hit her. That nagging pushed her right over the edge and it came to her.

"Why have you been leaving me those HS-9 notes?" she demanded, wanting an answer but also wanting to change the subject. It was too intimate to discuss with him, too scary… too wonderful to ever be true…

"Ah…Damn." Deston frowned. "I thought I'd copied Klavier's handwriting pretty well."

"WHAT?"

Deston winced, throwing his hands up in the air as he grinned sheepishly. "How did you know it was me?"

"Handwriting analysis, but that's beside the point. What the hell is that all about? Tell me. Right now."

"Er…" he scratched the back of his head and his eyes were looking side to side and he was taking tiny steps backwards.

"Don't you dare run away, Deston Cavatin!" Ema warned. "I'll chase you no matter how – "

"Okay, okay!" Deston said laughingly as he held up his hand as if to ward off an attack. "Yeesh. I'll tell you!" Ema crossed her arms and glared at him, waiting for his explanation. "I saw K's expression the day we met – you walked into the office and he was looking at you and I saw it. So I – "

"You saw _what_?" Ema demanded. Her heart was racing now, hope flaring through her and something was rising upwards from her feet, rushing through her legs… It was taking over her and numbing the pain of her aching muscles, kick-staring the butterflies in her stomach and her head was starting to spin. "_What are you talking about?_"

"Hey! Hey!" Deston exclaimed nervously. "Easy there, tiger! I saw the way he looked at you – he's head over heels in love with you!"

Ema's heart stopped and her breathing was suddenly uneven but she tried to get control of herself. _Don't get carried away – it's not like it's Klavier saying it to you – Deston could easily be wrong._

"What are you talking about? He's not – "

"And you're in love with him," Deston said and Ema lost her voice mid-rant. She gaped at him as he grinned at her and shook his head. "Don't try to deny it! It's as clear as day – you're both mad about each other but you're both as stubborn as mu– aah…" he trailed off, seeing the expression on her face and took another step backward.

"W-wh… I – you…" Ema spluttered but she couldn't form a single coherent word and she took a deep breath before letting it all go; "I'M NOT A MULE!"

Deston stepped back involuntarily. "Hey, I didn't say you were!"

"If you thought he – that I… that…AGH!" Ema bunched her hands into fists, wincing at the pain and tried again. "Let's say you're right – which you're not by the way – but let's just imagine… Why did you pretend to be interested in me and start this farce of a relationship!"

"Hey!" Deston exclaimed. "I always kept my distance! A-Anyway," he added hastily, seeing the murderous gleam in her eye. "I was trying to push K into admitting his feelings to himself and to you. I thought jealousy was the best ally."

Ema stared at him in shock. "And you couldn't just let it be?" She demanded. "If it was true?" She added hurriedly.

"No," Deston said and he was shaking his head sadly. "He's just lost his brother and his best friend. He needs someone. You two are so obviously in love with each other – "

"We're not in love!" she said loudly.

" – and you're both so stubborn I figured you needed a push," Deston said as if she hadn't said anything. Ema glowered at him. "Plus I thought that maybe if he was in a relationship, Tessa and Daryan could tell him the truth before it was too late."

Ema's anger subsided as she remembered Tessa's condition. Today had certainly been full of revelations… and not all the good kind.

Tessa Crescend. She certainly hadn't seen that coming. But then… how could she have missed it? Hadn't Daryan mentioned her in the conversation Ema had overheard? Daryan in prison for cocoon smuggling and murder… and Tessa in hospital, dying of Incuritis. And Ema had been assuming she was Klavier's girlfriend and that Deston was an evil mastermind, trying to destroy Klavier while trying to kill her.

Ugh. Some detective she was.

"Ema," Deston's voice was soft now. "There's something else."

Ema groaned. "I don't know if I can take much more, Deston."

"I know," he said sadly. "It's unfair but necessary. I know that I've just told you how K feels about you… and I know how you feel – no, don't try to deny it," Deston held up a hand and Ema pursed her lips in irritation. "There's no use. Anyway, that's not the point." He fixed her with his eyes once more. "I've done nothing but try and push K into admitting how he felt. I copied his handwriting and left you those notes thinking you'd assume it's his and tell him how you felt. I made you two live together. When you received those flowers and Snackoos, that wasn't me, it was him." Ema's heart was racing so fast, she was certain it was humming. Klavier had sent her those…? "I thought if I lied and said they were from me, it would push him – I was constantly pushing him and it wasn't working. And now that it has worked somewhat…" he hung his head.

"What's worked? You're confusing me, Deston," Ema said breathlessly.

"He sang to you at Lana's party," Deston said and Ema wondered why his voice sounded heavy. "Ema, I saw your expression – it was finally working. And now…" he looked up at her and his eyes were sad and Ema suddenly felt her heart sink. "Now, I have to ask you not to approach him. Not romantically."

"Why?"

The word had fallen from her lips without thought and in any other situation she would have smacked herself or said something to cover the severe disappointment that rushed through her but now… All she could think about was how her hopes were swiftly sailing away while she drowned in the emptiness left behind.

"Ema…" Deston ran a hand through his hair. "I had another reason for making you live with K. When you first got attacked, I thought it was because of me. I thought, maybe, they assumed you were mixed up in the whole thing. The investigation I'm involved in with Mr Wright is pretty dangerous and I wondered if maybe it was risky for you. I told you to stay with Klavier because I though if whoever it was, thought you were with him, they wouldn't target you. Now, after your second attack…" he sighed, frustrated. "I'm not sure what to think."

"You think whoever it was is after Klavier too," Ema said hollowly. Deston nodded. "Because of me?"

"I'm sorry, Ema," Deston said and he sounded miserable now. "I made a mess of it. I didn't realise – you understand don't you?"

Ema nodded, feeling empty. "Because I'm meant to be your girlfriend, if I'm seen with him, whoever it is will assume he's in on whatever it is."

"Yes."

"I understand," Ema said quietly. "I'll stay away from him."

"I'm so – "

"Deston," Ema interrupted, holding up a hand. "It's fine. I want his safety too."

"It's more than that, Ema," Deston said falling into the chair and running a hand over his face. "It's that now you know, you can't tell him. We're still not sure exactly what we're dealing with and I don't want him getting involved into this mess. It's…" He shook his head. "I don't know how he'd take knowing we're investigating his brother."

"Kristoph Gavin?" Ema frowned. "But I thought you said he's got nothing – "

"He's got nothing to do with your attack," Deston nodded. "That much we know – for a fact."

"How?" Ema demanded. "I want to know everything, Deston. I'm involved now and I have the right to know."

"I know," he acceded. "It's complicated. Phoenix – "

The man in question stepped into the room just then and Deston went quiet, turning around to look at him. He smiled at Ema before looking at Deston. "I've spoken to the doctor and the police are here. Deston, they just need you to confirm everything, sign a few documents and we can go." He glanced at Ema. "The quicker the better."

"Yeah," Deston nodded. He glanced back at Ema who bit her lip in frustration. She wanted to know what the hell was going on but she could never argue with Phoenix. She just shrugged and Deston lifted her hand to his lips, dropping a kiss on the back softly. "I promise, we'll talk later."

"Okay," she said.

Deston smiled at her and turned to walk out. At the doorway, he stopped before Phoenix. "Have you told K?"

"I tried," Phoenix said. "His phone appears to be out of range. No need for concern," he added seeing the ashen look cross Deston's face. "I made a few calls and found out he's out of the city on a job. He's got police escort – he should be fine."

Deston and Ema both let out a sigh of relief and the former shook his head, clapped Phoenix on the shoulder and left. In the silence, Ema tried to calm her beating heart, telling herself that thinking about it all and stressing like this would give her a heart attack. It must have been beating loud because Phoenix chuckled and settled into the chair next to her bed.

"It's okay, Ema," he said reassuringly. Somehow, his words did calm her – she supposed it was because she knew that he wasn't just saying it. She trusted him beyond belief.

"Mr Wright, what's going on?" Ema said, a pleading tone to her voice. "I'm so confused and I – "

"Deston will explain everything to you later," Phoenix said holding up a hand. "I don't think this is the time and place to discuss this." As if to restore confidence, he smiled at her. "Try to relax, Ema. You've had an exciting day, to say the least. You don't need to worry anymore – you're not alone."

Ema stared at him for a moment, searching his eyes for… well, for _anything_, but all she found was confidence. Satisfied, she nodded and laid her head back into the pillow.

"I take it Deston has told you about Klavier…?"

"Yes," she said tiredly. "I understand. I won't go anywhere near him,"

Phoenix was silent for a moment. "It will be hard for Klavier," he said quietly. "And you will have to be his friend."

Ema's head shot up and she ignored the pain it caused. "What? Deston said…"

"I know," Phoenix said. "I agreed with Deston at first but now that I think about it, that may seem even more suspicious – living with Klavier then suddenly breaking off all contact? No." He looked to the side, as if thinking about something. "You will just have to balance it…" He glanced at her dismayed expression. "I know what I'm asking of you Ema. But I'm asking nevertheless because you're the only one who can do this."

"What do you mean?"

"It's going to get tougher for him now and only you'll be able to pull him through it."

"But that means I'll be putting his life in danger!"

"He'll be in even greater danger without you around, Ema." Phoenix leaned forward until his elbows were resting on his knees and his hands entwined. "Klavier's going to need you and when he does, you're going to have to do what you think best."

Ema's heart sunk and her shoulders drooped as she felt a heaviness come and sit upon them. She was confused, tired and heart-broken. She had experienced everything from fear, sorrow, anger and elation in one day – anyone else would have exploded by now, she was sure of it and damn the scientific impossibility of it. Ema wanted Klavier with her, right now, holding her. She wanted to hold him too and cry and protect him…

How was she going to be able to protect him if all she wanted was to stay by his side? What if staying away is what was best for him but she couldn't?

"I know you doubt yourself, Ema," Phoenix's voice broke through her thoughts, saving her from drowning in her despair. "But I don't. I know whatever you decide will be right – because you love him."

Ema didn't deny it. There was no use lying to Phoenix. She simply let her head fall into her pillows a final time and looked at him wearily.

"How are you so certain I'm going to have to do all this? He may not even need help."

"He will," Phoenix said and the look on his face was more grave than she had ever seen. There was no far-away look, no amusement, no mischief in the eyes, no boredom… just pure intensity. He was radiating seriousness and she almost shivered at his next words.

"I told you once Ema – there's a dark time coming for Klavier. And he won't be able to pull through it alone."


	20. Dancing on Death

So the final chapter of AD is finally up. If you've made it this far, I congratulate you! (and you better have left me a review...)

Anyway, this epilogue (-ish) chap may confuse somewhat. It might also disappoint some of you but it's kind of necessary - it will become clearer during Moving Shadows. These are **not** my views - just the character's!

This chapter is heavily influenced by Khalil Gibran's poems.

Hope to see you over at Part II of Nightfall: Moving Shadows/

* * *

_I stand at the feet of my death, my twinkling eyes drinking in my surroundings and I see the light._

_Yes, I see the light – it spills rebelliously into my darkened room and my smile grows at the irony of my thought. What does man see in the light? Does the light not blind? Does the light not fade unfaithfully day in, day out? Does the light not give birth to the shadows man fears?_

_Man is stupid. He waxes poetic to lessen his irrational fears._

_What's so great about the light? if you near the sun does it not burn and destroy? And yet, the night remains our friend, cloaking us as we take solace in the solitude it offers. That killer of man, the foe of the nectar of life, that caster of shadows..._

_I reject it. I do not respect it. And I cringe from it. But not because it forces me to face my own shadow. I do not fear my shadow._

_What is my shadow except the blackness of my soul? For blackness resides in us all - even the most philanthropic. It is there for anyone to discover and master. Like our past, it remains forever attached to our being, and it never lets go. Careful, my friend... What you do in the so-called purity of sunlight or the darkened abyss of your lair, your shadow will re-enact your every move, tracing your sin upon and tainting the sunlit ground before you. And it will mock you._

_And I dare any to scoff. I dare any to smile in pity. I have never confused reality with fantasy. I have never hidden from the truth. I know what lies in the dark. I was born in the dark and in the dark I have lived. Each sin I have committed, my shadow has performed for my pleasure._

_And when my shadow mirrors my death, I shall watch with a smile. My contentment will tug at my lips, drawing from me my last smile at my shadow's final performance._

_For I shall be at peace at last_

* * *

_I sit in this darkness, wondering on the nature of mankind. What does it mean, to be evil? Does it mean to sink beyond the depths and understanding of human nature? I recall the mercy preached in so many religions – how can evil be irrevocable if the ancient teachings do not forsake the fallen?_

_Again, the silence asks; what is the nature of evil?_

_And I remember what a wise man once said: what is evil but good tortured by its own hunger and thirst? When good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, and when it thirsts, it drinks even of dead waters._

_And that is what I am – thirsting and hungry. But I cannot even find the dark caves. There are no dead waters. I see only a desert that seeks to remind me of my own ineffectuality, my own imperfection. The howling wind mocks me because I cannot capture it. The earth laughs at me because I cannot scar it. The sky taunts me because I cannot touch it… For how can you touch the untouchable?_

_Is this evil? The absence of dead waters and the dark caves? Am I doomed to roam the desert finding no shade from the searing heat of the sun?_

_And those who lay down the law to break them… Are they evil, I wonder? Those whose shadows are their laws – are they evil? And if so, how to destroy those shadows? For even if I wander in the dark, shadows still whisper at my feet. Even as I sit cloaked in the darkness that covers to enhance my loneliness, I see the flickering silhouettes._

_So many questions and no answers – and one thought spins through my mind; they say no one is superior to you. So how can one be inferior to any other? They talk to the criminal as if he has fallen lower than what is in them but they contradict themselves – by their despising gaze, they pronounce themselves superior and, in doing so, break all their principles and mock their self-righteousness._

_And they prosecute the murderers of flesh and thieves of jewels but what of those who slay emotions and steal the soul of the heart? What penalty is thrust upon them? None._

_Therein rests true evil._

_And I see it._

_And so, the real thieves and killers continue to roam free while the petty criminals sit in the prison cells, laughing at the stupidity of mankind for not realising that the real murder happens in the deepest, most impenetrable and yet vulnerable part of you._

_For even as Love crowns you, so shall He crucify you._


End file.
